


A Fallacy in Your Head

by lottielovebuzz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 90s setting, ATM Hacking, Abuse of Authority, Abuse of Power, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - RENT, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Femslash, Beating, Bisexual Dean, Bottom Castiel, Canon-Typical Violence, Cas Went To MIT, Castiel & Anna Milton are Siblings, Comfort/Angst, Computer Programming, Crowley Being an Asshole, Demisexual Castiel, Drug Abuse, Drug Addict Benny, Drug Addict Meg, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Fighting, Fights, Fire, Fluff, HIV/AIDS, Hacking, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Heroin, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, La Vie Boheme, M/M, Manipulation, Marijuana, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Mention of Drug Abuse, Mentions of Character Death, Minor Character Death, Minor Jo Harvelle/Anna Milton, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Music, Musician Dean, Musicians, New York City, New York setting, Protective Anna Milton, Reconciliation, Recreational Drug Use, Roommates, Sexual Tension, Shotgunning, Song Lyrics, The Roadhouse Gets Burnt Down, Top Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, Work In Progress, Writer Castiel, Your Eyes Song, alphabet city, bohemian au, house fire, set in New York, struggling author castiel, struggling musician dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottielovebuzz/pseuds/lottielovebuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When paying rent gets too hard for Dean, his brother Sam convinces him to find a roommate, someone to share the load and strain with. Dean's hesitant but his brother's the smart one, so why not? After interviewing far too many people, Dean's ready to give up and of course, that's when the struggling author Castiel enters. </p>
<p>Bohemian!AU, based on Rent but not set in the Rent universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Start the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be for the DCBB but i dropped out and yeah... now i'm posting it chapter by chapter! hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> also, tags and that are for the entire fic. not just this chapter.

The guitar lies on the floor beside the couch and his hand outstretched towards it, almost as if he was trying to stop it from falling. The soft rumble of snores is the only sound in the room, and when he shifts on the couch, moving into a more comfortable position, his fingers brush over the strings of the instrument. 

The sudden change in texture against his fingertips isn't enough to wake him, however, and after he turns so he's facing the back of the couch, he soon forgets about the strumming sound that came from the guitar when he touched it. He manages to fall back asleep after that, familiar dreams filling his mind as he slumbers; dreams of being on a stage in a sold-out stadium, with his friends playing their instruments by his side; dreams of seeing thousands upon thousands of people singing along to his songs; dancing along to his guitar solo. 

The dream is definitely his most common one, but it's not the only one that plagues his unconsciousness; the other is the sight of him and a faceless, nameless person, living in a cosy house, with kids running around and playing in the pool. He's clearly no longer living in New York City, and he can't blame his dreams for escaping the "centre of the universe." Sometimes he finds himself wondering why the hell he's still there, seeing as the rent is sky-high and the people are douches and there's no way his dreams will ever come true.

So no, he can never blame himself for creating a "normal" life for him, even though he knows that it's never going to happen.

Which is proven when he's woken up by a constant pounding, a knocking at the door that makes his entire head throb. The banging doesn't let up one bit. The constant thump, thump, thump reverberating inside his head, and Dean can't help the groan that breaks free from his lips as he throws a hand over his head, trying to muffle the sound. 

As if the person at the door knows what he just did, the banging gets louder, and Dean groans again. 

He swallows hard before he manages to force his eyes open, turning back around so he can look at the door, and he can practically see it _jump_ from the force of the asshole's knocking. 

And they're not going away any time soon, he knows that's a fact. 

'Fuck this,' he mutters, before he pulls himself into a sitting position, swinging his feet around and setting them on the ground, only to bring them back up a moment later when he realises that he was close to standing on his baby. He leans down and picks the guitar up, trailing his hand along her shiny black body, before he sighs and sets her on the sofa beside him. 

He stands then, running a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the door, getting closer and closer to the banging and he wishes he had brought his baby with him, so he could smash it over the assholes head. Who the hell _does_ this?

As soon as he can, Dean pulls the door of his apartment open, sliding it along with a grunt from both the heaviness of the door, and the fact that he's still pissed at whoever is at the other side of the metal. He's actually sorely tempted to throw punches first and ask questions later.

But he realises just how stupid and reckless that would be, so instead, he just puts on his best glare before he's fully opened on the door, which turns to one of pure hatred when he sees who was pounding the door. 

'What the hell do you want?' He sneers, moving over to stand in the space that the open door created before he crosses his arms over his chest. 

'Nice to see you too, Squirrel,' Crowley grins, and Dean wishes that he had a different landlord, just so he didn't have to listen to the smarmy bastard with his British accent and his stupid comebacks. 'However, for the sake of this conversation, I'd suggest speaking to me nicely. I want the rent.' 

The glare falls off Dean's face then. He bites his lower lip, rolling the flesh between his teeth before he puts on a smile. 

'Crowley…' 

'Stow it,' Crowley snaps before Dean can even get another word out. 'The money, Winchester. I've got people breathing down my neck for their money, so to pay them, I need you to pay _me_. So, cough up.' 

Dean looks at him, trying to plead with him without actually getting down on his hands and knees, but Crowley just tilts his head, his lips pulling into a ridiculously wide smile that makes Dean clench his jaw so hard a muscle twitches. 

His hand goes straight to his back pocket, and he pulls out his wallet and flips it open. 

'Fuck.' He mutters when he gets the confirmation of what he thought… he has no money in his wallet. No little dollar hidden away; nothing. He lifts his head back up to Crowley, plastering a small smile on his lips as he does so. 'Crowley…' he tries again, but the short Englishman just rolls his eyes, and it's enough to make Dean's sentence die on his lips. 

'You don't have it, do you?' Crowley enquires, his eyes narrowing almost dangerously at Dean. 

'No, but I can -' 

'What did I tell you about stowing it, Winchester?' Crowley mutters darkly. 'I want you out by the end of the week.' 

Crowley turns then, but Dean grabs ahold of his arm and spins him back around. 

'What do you mean? You're throwing me out? You can't do that!' 

'I'm the landlord, and you haven't paid your rent. I think you'll find I can. Out by the week, Squirrel.' Crowley grins before he pulls his hand arm from Dean's grasp and disappears down the hall, leaving Dean alone in the apartment with worry eating away at him. 

How… he just can't throw him out without a notice or anything, right? That's just not the way things work! Surely not. Dean turns around and looks back into his apartment. 

Sure, it's not much, there's only two shitty bedrooms, a tiny kitchen and his living room is mainly a couch that he uses as a bed, and his guitar and its equipment, but it was _home_. It was what he was used to and what he had built all by himself. It was what he and _Benny_ had built before… he shakes his head. 

'One fuck-up at a time, Dean!' He snaps, deciding that there's no point in thinking about that now. He's got enough to deal with… such as apparently getting evicted from his apartment with no notice whatsoever. He's actually tempted to grab ahold of something and send it flying against the wall, because he wants to _break_ something, but then he remembers that everything in this fucking place is his, not Crowley's so it'd only hurt him. 

He gives a shout of anger before he turns back into the apartment, and when his eyes scan the room, they land on the small photo that sits on the table at the end of the couch; the one that was taken when Sammy graduated from Stanford with his law degree. Dean had to play about a million gigs in order to get the ticket to fly to California to watch his little brother graduate from college. Only to find out that he'd have to fly back out in six months to be best man at his wedding. 

Maybe that's why he's so fucking broke all the time; he spent all the money that he could've been spending on rent, on flying back and forth across the damn country. 

He shakes his head, he can't blame Sam, of course he can't. He had offered to let Dean stay with them whilst he got a "real" job, but Benny and his band, _Purgatory_ was doing brilliantly, and they were even talking with a couple of record labels and everything, so of course he said no. 

God, how he regrets that decision. 

Then again, it's not like he could see the future; he had no idea what was going to happen three months later. Not fucking idea at all. 

But before his mind can run through that again, he remembers. Sammy graduated from _law_ , he's a lawyer now. A big, successful one of the letters are anything to go by. Sam often talked about not wanting any children until he knew he could support them… and in the most recent letter, he told Dean that Jess was expecting their first child, so things definitely must be going good for them. 

At least someone in the Winchester family is happy, which is something. 

He grins as his eyes refocus on the photo, seeing his arm wrapped around his Sasquatch-size brother, as he's dressed in his graduation robes, diploma in hand. There's large smiles on both of their faces, and Dean can't remember the last time he smiled like that… it was probably at his graduation. 

'Sammy's bound to help,' he mutters to himself, before he rushes over to the phone, lifting the handset and dialling Sam's number, before lifting the it to his ear. He nearly hurls the damn thing against the wall when he hears nothing, no dial-tone or _anything,_ and it's then it occurs to him that Crowley probably turned his fucking phone line off because he hadn't paid his rent. And he wasn't going to be paying his rent. 

'Fucking _dick_.' He hisses before he turns, looking around his apartment. He can't lose this place; he's worked too damn hard to make it what it is; to make it his _home_. 

Well, he's just going to have to go somewhere else in order to phone Sammy, and he knows just the place. Somewhere that'll let him use their phone, without asking too many questions.

Dean turns then, moving back over to the door that he had _just_ closed, before he throws it open, letting it slide along and then he doesn't even bother to care when it clatters against the end, banging loudly. The momentum causes it to start rolling back, and as Dean reaches the stairs, he looks back to see it's nearly closed and feels that it's good enough for him. 

He takes the stairs two at a time, finding it annoying as hell that he's on the seventh floor, which is the opposite of helpful at times like this. 

By the time he bursts onto the streets of New York, he's panting hard and barely able to stand upright. God, he needs to do something about how unfit he is. Right now, however, he has bigger problems to deal with, and that's why he steps forward, shouting out as he raises his hand to stop the first cab that he sees. 

'Where to?' The driver asks as Dean opens the back door and slides into the backseat. 

'Uh, y'know _Harvelle's Roadhouse_ on 179th Street? Lovely little country-style bar.' Dean says, and he quietly sighs when the driver nods his head, merging back onto the road and heading in the direction of the _Roadhouse_. 

He drums his fingers against his thigh, cursing New York's traffic as he does so, because the whole journey takes fifteen minutes on foot, and here he is, getting stuck in traffic. Why the hell didn't he just walk it? That would've made more sense. 

Then again, sense isn't one of his strongest points, he realises with a snort. The driver looks into the mirror, and Dean's eyes move to gaze out the window when he notices the confused look on the guy's face. He's probably wondering why the hell he was snorting; probably wondering why the hell he let Dean into his cab in the first place.

'Bit early for a drink, ain't it?' The driver questions, and Dean turns his head, looking over the backs of the front seats to see the clock that's on the dashboard. 

 _2:15pm_ , and he's just up. God, his life is so pathetic. 

'Not going for a drink,' he mutters instead, not about to let the driver know exactly why he's going to the _Roadhouse_ , nor about to tell him that he wouldn't even be up right now, if it hadn't been for that asshole banging on his door. 

That's so fucking sad, and he knows it. 

The driver hums but doesn't say anything else, and the drive to the bar is surprisingly quiet for the rest of the journey. Normally the taxi-cab driver's couldn't shut up, always wanting to know what their passenger was doing and what their passenger's aunt's cat was called. It was pathetic. 

But this one, this one seems to sense that Dean's not really in the mood to talk - something that Dean thinks a lot of them can sense, but chose to ignore - and doesn't say another word to him after that.

Not until they pull up outside the bar, and he turns his head over his shoulder to look at Dean, after putting the car into park. 

'That'll be twenty-five dollars, man.' The driver informs, and Dean swallows hard. _Why_ did he think it was a good idea for him to get a cab to the bar, and _how_ did he manage to forget that he doesn't even have a cent to his name?

'Uh, yeah, about that…' he rubs the back of his neck, giving the driver a small smile, who narrows his eyes in return. Right, Dean knows that expression. He's most definitely not a softie that's going to let Dean out of the car alive without paying. 

With this in mind, Dean goes to reach into his pocket, his fingers wrapping around his wallet, but instead of pulling it out, his free hand comes up and tugs the door handle, throwing the cab door open, even as another car comes flying up the road beside them and nearly crashes into it. 

He runs around the car as fast as he can, heading for the bar, thankful that he got a head start on the driver. He doesn't hear his footsteps pounding against the pavement until after a few seconds delay, and that's all Dean needs right now. 

He bursts into the bar, not even stopping to see whether Jo or Ellen were about, he continues to run, hopping over the bar and crouching down behind the wood, blocking him from the view of anyone that wasn't behind the bar. 

His green eyes look up, and he finds Jo looking down at him with an expression that's mixed between amusement and confusion. 

However, before she can ask Dean what the hell he's doing, the door flies open and the driver storms in, moving straight over to the bar. His hands thunk down on the wood in front of Jo.

'Where is the asshole?' 

'Well, if you ask me, he's standing right in front of me.' Jo retorts, crossing her arms over her chest after throwing the towel she was using to dry the bar down. 

Dean smiles, having to fight back the chuckle that is desperately trying to claw its way free. Instead, he bites the inside of his cheek in order to make sure nothing breaks free, and waits for Jo to deal with it. 

'Watch your tongue, girl. He didn't pay his cab fare.' He snarls and even Dean is tempted to reveal himself, to punch this dude in the face. No-one talks to Jo like that. 

However, he knows that Jo will take care of herself. She's learnt it from the best after all. 

'Well, I think your eyes are deceiving you. No-one ran into the bar, looking for a hideout from you. Trust me. Now, get out before I decide to _make_ you.' 

The taxi driver chuckles, leaning forward as he places his hands on the bar. He crowds as close to Jo as the bar will let him, feeling more annoyed when Jo doesn't shrink away from him, or even flinch. 'I'd like to see you try, Doll.' 

Dean's eyes flicker up to see the confrontation, hoping to God that the guy doesn't decide to look down, otherwise he's going to see Dean, crouched on the floor beside Jo, looking like he's hiding from him for not paying his fare. 

Thankfully, Jo doesn't let him have that possibility, for she pulls the gun that they keep for situations like this, from the first shelf behind the bar. She cocks the shotgun, pointing it at the man and letting the barrel push up against his chest. 

Dean bites his lip as he takes a deep breath in, because when the gun comes out, that's when he knows Jo is _pissed_ and the last thing he needs is Jo being pissed at him. He's already got Crowley, this asshole, and half of New York City crying for his blood, he doesn't need his sister being mad at him too. 

'I suggest you _leave_ ,' Jo advises, her voice a soft growl that has shivers running down Dean's spine. His eyes flicker back up to see the guy slowly backing away from Jo, moving so that the gun is no longer pressing painfully into his chest, and he takes a deep breath in when he hears him mutter about "stupid bitches and their faggots," before he hears his footsteps lead to the door. 

He doesn't release the breath until he hears the door swing shut and when he opens his eyes - which he can't remember closing - he finds Jo staring down at him, shotgun slung over her shoulder and eyebrow raised in questioning. 

'Care to explain?' She questions with a small smirk on her face, and Dean rolls his eyes before accepting the hand that she extends out to him. She tugs him up, craning her head then in order to look him in the eye. 'I mean, it's not the first time you've used this bar as a hiding place, but it's the first time someone's _followed_ you in. What's up Dean-o?'  

Dean rolls his eyes at the nickname, but opens his mouth to answer. However, before he can even get his mouth open to speak words, there's another voice coming and he can't help but grimace, his eyes and mouth snapping shut as he does so.

'Joanna Beth Harvelle and Dean Winchester! Just what are you two playing at?' Ellen's voice seeps into the room, her voice that perfect mix of annoyance and exasperation, at a shout-but-not-a-shout that only a mother can make. 

Dean opens his eyes, turning around to face Ellen with a wide smile on his face. 

'Ellen!' He exclaim, walking over to pull her into his arms, finding it comforting when her arms wrap around his back. Good. She's not _that_ mad then. 'Good to see you!' 

'Don't try to charm me, Dean Winchester.' She replies, pulling away from his embrace and forcing back the smile on her lips. 'I know you too well for that to work. What the hell is happening?' 

Dean sighs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with his hand, 'I couldn't pay my cab fare and the dude chased me in here, and Jo… got him away for me.' 

'With the gun.' Ellen snaps, her gaze turning to her daughter then, who immediately takes the shotgun off her shoulder and tucks it back into the shelf she got it from. 

'Sorry mom.' Jo replies once she straightens up again. 'I know what you say about -' 

'Oh, you remember that talk, do you? The one about how you're not supposed to wave that gun about just because someone is a bit rude? Or how you could point it to the wrong person and end up getting _shot yourself_? Don't you remember what happened to your father, or have you just chosen to ignore that as well?' 

'He was threatening to hurt Dean! The last time I checked, the gun was there to protect family. Dean is family.' Jo explodes, and Dean is thankful that the bar is pretty much dead except for the regulars, who are so used to this kind of argument, they don't even look up from their drink. 

He bites his lower lip when Ellen moves closer to his daughter, retorting to that statement with a shout of how "not every situation needs a damn gun to be solved!". Just as Jo is about to reply to that, Dean steps in between them, remembering why he's here in the first place, and why he can't let this go on any further. 

'Look you've both been through this a million times before, seriously, you all get it. Now, can I use your phone? I've got to call Sammy!' 

This catches both Jo and Ellen's attention, and they turn away from their glaring match in order to face Dean. 

'Why do you need to talk to Sam?' Jo questions, crossing her arms over her chest in that way that Dean knows means, "I'm curious and I'm going to get to the bottom of this, so help me." 

Dean's not about to admit this to them without hearing Sam's point of view first, because he doesn't want to get them both worried if it turns out to be something that Crowley can't actually do. 

So, with this in his mind, he just shrugs and declares, 'I can't talk to my brother, no?' before he turns on his heel, walking through to the back room, where the stairs are that'll take him up to their apartment. He climbs them with a lump in his throat, realising that he's actually going to phone his baby brother, ask him for advice and then find out whether he's going to lose the home he had worked so hard to build. 

Not to mention he didn't even tell Ellen or Jo what was wrong; why he needed to talk to Sam, and they're not idiots. They know the difference between him _needing_ to call Sam and _wanting_ to him. They'll know that this isn't a call just to check up on his brother; see how work is and how Jessica is, and when the baby is due. They know that it's nothing like that he's going to be asking, and he really shouldn't have lied to them.

But he just doesn't want to worry them. 

Well, that's what he tells himself.

When he steps into the room where they keep their phone, he has a quick gaze around, seeing that everything is pretty much the same as normal; the photos of Jo and Dean and Sammy, from when they were kids and teenagers. The one good photo of Dean and Benny as they played their first sold-out gig. The photo of Sammy when he got his law degree is there too… along with the only photo Dean's ever seen of Bill Harvelle. 

Everything is the exact same way and he wonders why he's still staying in an apartment that doesn't _look_ like home, only feels it, when he's had countless offers to take the room that Ash moved out of nearly a year ago. 

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath as he walks over to the sofa, taking a seat next to the phone before he picks it up and dials Sam's number, hoping that he's actually in. He never really thought about it before, but Sam could be working and he could just get Jess, and as much as he loves her, Dean needs Sam's expertise right now.

Luckily, it's Sam's voice that seeps in through the phone, 'Hello?' 

'Sammy. It's Dean. I need some help.' Dean opens, not even bothering to ask how he or Jess are getting on. Right now, he doesn't have time. He's got to be out by the end of the week, and seeing as it's fucking _Thursday_ , he needs to get a move on. He needs to know whether Crowley can actually do this or not. 'Crowley's told me to get out by the end of the week. Can he do that?' 

The line is silent on the other end for a good few seconds, and it isn't until Dean prompts him that Sam actually clears his throat and Dean can just imagine him shaking his head, automatically slipping into the big hot-shot lawyer that he is. 

'Depends.' 

'On?' Dean murmurs, rolling his eyes because _seriously_? This is the best he can do? This is what he's like with clients? 

"Can you get me off with murder?" 

"Depends"

God, his brother is great. 

'Well, what's his grounds for evicting you? He can only do that if you've broken the terms of your contract - even though I doubt there actually _is_ one, there's still a psychological one between tenant and landlord. If you haven't broken any terms, he can't throw you out. So… what's his reasoning? Did you set fire to something or did you just piss him off?'

Dean opens his mouth to answer that question, but then closes his eyes for a split second and decides against it. He's not in the mood for that conversation just yet, so he decides to change the subject completely. 

It's what he's good at anyway.

'But can he just turn up at my door and tell me to get out?' Dean questions, hoping that Sam will get so wound up on the law side of things he won't notice that Dean never answered why Crowley's trying to throw him out.

Then he'll thank Sammy for his help, hang up and he'll never have to have that conversation. Everyone wins. 

'He really should offer a notice, but like I said, it all depends on what you did and why he's evicting you,' Sam explains and before the words are even out of his mouth, Dean knows exactly where the conversation is heading again, and he can't help the grimace that pulls at his face. 'So, what did you do, Dean?'

Dean reaches up with his free hand to rub the back of his neck, biting his lip anxiously as he tries to think of a way to phrase this. 

'I… I may be a little behind on my rent.' Dean answers, hoping that just explains everything and that Sam will ask no further questions.

But of course, he should've known that it wouldn't have been that easy. His brother is an inquisitive pain in the ass. 

'How far is "little," Dean?' Sam prompts and Dean bites his bottom lip, worrying at a bit of dead skin with his teeth as he does so. 

He mumbles the answer, keeping his voice low and quiet and hoping that he realises how Dean feels about saying it aloud, and decides not to press any further. 

Once again, he should've known it wouldn't have been that easy. 

' _What_? I couldn't hear you!' 

Dean takes a deep breath in, before he releases it with an equally loud sigh. 

'A year.' He admits, his voice loud and clear, and there's no mistaking that Sam's heard him this time. 'I haven't paid this past year's rent!' 

There's a beat of silence. Where Dean can't hear anything on the other side of the phone call; not even Sam's _breathing_ , and he wonders if he's actually, finally, broke his brother this time with this revelation. 

But then Sam starts, and nope, he didn't manage to break him this time. At all.

'Are you being _serious_? How do you miss a year worth of rent? Paying rent should be a top priority Dean! You don't just _forget_ to pay rent… that's… how is that _possible_? Jesus, I'm actually surprised Crowley hasn't thrown you out _before_ now! If you were my tenant you'd've been long gone; like nine months gone! He's got stuff to pay too, Dean, how is he supposed to do that when people aren't paying him his rent?' Sam snaps, and he doesn't stop. He keeps going on and on about how wrong it is that Dean apparently "forgot" to pay rent, even though he didn't forget. He knew when he was supposed to pay it… didn't mean he could afford it though. 

It isn't until he starts going on about how Dean made a mistake moving out to New York does something snap within him, and Dean finds himself standing from the sofa, phone pressed hard against his ear, as if thinking the fore will reach Sam and hurt him. 

'Sam, do you want to shut up and help me? Otherwise I'm hanging up; I've got enough to deal with, without you being pissed at me. Now do you have any _good_ advice, or are you just gonna shout at me some more?' 

He hears Sam take a deep breath in, calming himself down and Dean takes that as a good sign. Okay, he's planning on offering advice, and is planning on stopping the ranting. Good. 

'Right, I can't exactly do anything to help you, because well, it's the businessman against the bohemian, and that never ends well. But there could be one or two things you could do to change his mind; make him realise that evicting you is a hasty decision.' 

'Like what?' Dean retorts, sitting back down on the sofa and thanking whoever the hell is listening, that Ellen or Jo haven't gotten curious enough to come and listen to his conversation. 

'Well… you could get a roommate; someone that's there to half the rent with and someone you can lean on. Y'know financially and mentally. I reckon that'd convince Crowley to let you stay, because he's more likely to get _something_ from two people rather than one.' Sam explains. 'Not to mention, Benny's room is still lying empty.' 

The mention of Benny seems to break Dean and he shakes his head, 'No. No fucking way. I'm not bringing some stranger in just to share the load.' 

He keeps muttering "no" any time Sam tries to talk him around, and apparently Sam can't take it anymore, for he snaps, 'Look, Dean, it's this simple. You either end up homeless, get a roommate or you sell Baby. Those are your choices.' 

Dean swallows hard. He really doesn't like the idea of living on the streets; he knows what that does to people and knows that they're not friendly _at all_. And the idea of selling his baby; his beloved guitar, is enough to make him feel sick. He can't sell her. She's the only thing he's got. 

Not just of value, but that's his. That's well and truly _his_. That holds so many emotional memories and what he's making his life out of. 

He can't sell her. 

He just can't. 

Dean grinds his teeth together, closing his eyes as he tries not to start arguing with his brother over something as trivial as this. He's got a fair point and well, he did like having Benny around. 

'Fine,' he declares, his voice sharp, and if Sam didn't know how hard it was for his brother to agree to this, he would've laughed at his tone. 'How the hell do I go about getting a roommate?' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	2. Raging Winds of Change

Dean slams the door in front of the asshole's face, before he turns and leans his back against the door. He closes his eyes as he throws his head back against it, not even wincing when pain shoots through his skull from the bang.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!' He hisses, each word punctuated by a sharp knock against the door with the back of his head. Pain settles behind his eyelids and when he finally reopens his eyes his vision is just a little blurry, but it's nothing he concerns himself with. Instead he pushes away from the door, moving around the apartment with a deep frown on his face as he tries to think of what the hell he's going to do. He picks up the odd thing, magazines, guitar strings and picks, and puts it back to the place it's supposed to be in. Though he doesn't really keep an organised house anyway.

'"It's easy to get a roommate, Dean",' he murmurs under his breath, pretending to mimic his brother's voice, even though he makes it higher pitched that it actually is, and infinitely more whiney. '"You'll have no problem. There's always people looking for apartments in New York, Dean! They'll _flock_ to you!", yeah, you didn't fucking mention they'd either be psychos or boring bastards!' 

He throws a magazine onto the table at the very end, trying to get his anger out in any way that _isn't_ punching a hole in the wall, before he collapses onto the couch and runs a hand over his face. How the hell is he supposed to find a roommate when the people that come to him are down right _weird_? 

First of all there was Victor, who seemed pretty damn cool until the second he declared he was a cop, then things shifted almost immediately. Dean's had more than a few run-ins with the law and he's never _ever_ forgot about it. Not to mention, there are times when the musician life doesn't exactly equate "legal" activity. He knew that he couldn't have a _cop_ living with him; not with the history of his and Benny's life, not with the fact he's so far behind on rent he's on the verge of being thrown out if he doesn't find a roommate by the end of the week. Not when he's got a pile of weed sitting visible in his room and he's so glad the tour didn't involve showing him his own room, otherwise he'd be in a cell right now. So he just tells Victor that he'll call him to let him know if he's successful before he crumples up his number and throws it in the bin as soon as he's shut the door. 

After that there had been Gordon, someone who had seemed to understand him to begin with. How he was also a lonely artist who couldn't fit in anywhere. Dean had fond himself growing fond of the idea of sharing an apartment with him… that was until he mentioned the fact he left his younger sister all alone in the streets of New York in order to make it himself; that he hadn't been in contact with her ever since he had decided to make a go at this life. If there's one thing Dean appreciates and needs more than anything, it's his family. If he thought for a single second Sam couldn't get by without him, he'd be straight to California without a second thought and wouldn't give a damn about his own life or dreams. And he couldn't live with anyone who didn't see that, so that ruled out Gordon. 

There had been a few others in between that too; an English chick who hinted that she survived by stealing anything she needed; another English guy with blond hair and a totally ridiculous name that Dean can't remember, who seemed like a right, forty-carat douche that totally didn't like Dean, and so he couldn't even understand why he was interested in the apartment. And then there was Jo, who popped by asking if she could have the room in order to get away from her mom.

Dean rolled his eyes and told her no, but offered to let her stay anytime she needed to get away, even if it was just on the couch. She grinned, gave him a cuddle and a kiss on the cheek, before telling him that the right person was going to come along, and that he wasn't going to lose his apartment. He just had to wait.

Dean sighs, throwing his head back so it rests over the edge of the couch and he lets out a groan. What the fuck is he supposed to do? At this rate he's _never_ going to find anyone. He's got no fucking chance of keeping his home.

He interviewed about fifteen people and there was only _one_ that he would've said yes to - in fact, he had every intention of saying yes to her - but fate was apparently determined to land Dean with a murderer or something for a roommate, instead of a cute redhead that called herself Charlie. She was obsessed with Star Wars, Star Trek and everything else that Dean loved himself. She was a nerd who wore graphic t-shirts and quotes tv shows, and as soon as she walked through the door, Dean could just picture the countless conversations they could have had. He hadn't been so sure about anyone since Benny stumbled into his life. 

But like he said, fate was a cruel son of a bitch and couldn't let him have anyone half-decent. She was happy with the apartment and happy with Dean, so she asked him to use his phone to call her girlfriend and let her know. Dean said yes - Crowley having replugged his landline, which was rather a miracle - and sat patiently by as she called her girlfriend, Dorothy. 

He knew something was up when the usually bubbly and unable-to-shut-up girl he just met fell silent. A second later she gave a loud shout of "yes" and after some more gushing, she hung up the phone before turning back to Dean. Turns out her girlfriend had been planning on asking her to move in tonight, but didn't think Charlie'd be looking for a new apartment. 

Dean was disappointed, sure, but he congratulated her on the big step in the relationship and ended up agreeing to her offer to meet up for lunch next Wednesday, as well as to call her if he doesn't find anyone and ends up on the streets - she was certain that Dorothy would let her live with them, seeing as she also had another wanderer called Gilda under her roof.

But other than Charlie, he's had no fucking luck whatsoever, and he's got no doubt in his mind that Crowley is going to throw him out in three days.

Dean lifts his head and pulls himself off the couch, heading towards the door with the plans of heading to the _Roadhouse_ to see Ellen and Jo, have a small drink, and then phone Sam to let him know that his big brother is going to live on the streets… or maybe even going to the nearest gun store.

However, the second the door is open, he stops, biting his lip as he turns back into his apartment and heads over to his own phone, leaving the door ajar.

He dials Sam's number, sighing once more as he sits down on his couch and debates whether this is a good idea or not. Sure, a good drink sounds really bloody awesome, but he can't go down that road. He saw what using substances as support did to you… he couldn't go down the same road as Benny. He just couldn't. 

So, that's why he settles himself on the couch once more, where there's no alcohol whatsoever because he downed it all when Benny died, and couldn't afford anymore after it. And it was also why he was phoning Sam because his little brother could talk him out of it, and well, he deserved to listen to Dean's ranting after his stupid comments.

'Hey, Sammy.' Dean mutters the second he hears Sam's voice filter down the phone. 

'Dean? How's it going? You found anyone yet?' 

'No, I haven't,' he says thinking that he maybe shouldn't tell Sam the trouble he's having, then he decides that he's not getting away that easy, he needs to feel some guilt, 'and I don't think I will! Everyone in New York is either a freak or crazy. Sometimes a mixture of both.' 

'You've got plenty of time, Dean.' Sam states, and Dean can hear Jess talking in the background, and he smiles when he hears her voice telling Sam to tell Dean that he's welcome to stay with them till he gets back on his feet. 'And y'know -'

'I heard Jess, don't worry, but Sammy, I can't afford to come to California even if I wanted to. It just looks like I'm going to be homeless for a while; it's all good, Sam. Seriously.'  

'Dean, I'm not letting my brother be homeless, I'm just-' Dean is distracted by Sam's tirade when there's a knock at his door. With a frown on his face, Dean lifts his head to see who's at his door only to find a man standing there, a piece of paper in his hands and a satchel strung over his shoulder. 

His bright blue eyes meet Dean's, and for a moment, Dean can't believe that eyes could be so _blue_. 

The stranger raises his hand in a small wave, before he lifts the bit of paper in his hand and shows it to Dean. Dean's eyes widen in recognition when he sees that it's the flyers he made for the spare room. 

The large bolded print of " _ROOMMATE WANTED"_ stares back at him and he can't help but wonder what kind of fucked up personality this guy is going to have… even though he _looks_ normal. Though he did have some air about him, it wasn't the kind that creeps him out. But his luck hasn't been good so far.

'Dean? Dean? Are you there? Dean!' 

'Uh, I'm gonna have to call you back, Sammy. Something… uh, something's came up.' Dean murmurs into the phone. He doesn't even say "goodbye" to Sam, and doesn't even wait for Sam to ask what the hell is happening, or give him time to comprehend what the fuck is going on, and hangs up on him. 

He stands the second he has hung up the phone and walks over to the door with his eyes still wide as they rake over the man, from his dark messy hair to his _thighs_ that are clad in dark, skinny jeans. 

'Uh, can I help you buddy?' He questions, even though he knows _exactly_ why he's here after seeing the flyer he had made. _Good one, Winchester_ , he hisses to himself, having to stop himself from rolling his eyes because that wouldn't look good either, would it? Maybe this stranger isn't the weirdo, maybe it's him.

'I saw the flyer you had put out and I'm wondering if the room is still available?' The stranger declares, and holy shit, how can a voice that deep come from someone like that? He doesn't even look like that kind of person; he looks like someone who should have a light, airy voice. Not for the first time, Dean wonders how he's real. Dean feels a smirk tugging at his lips at the stranger's gravelly voice, but he somehow manages to fight it back.

'Uh, yeah, c'mon in. You can have a look around.' Dean declares, moving away to let the stranger enter the apartment. His head is cocked to the side as he walks in, examining the room and Dean finds he can no longer hold back the tiny smirk on his lips. 'I'm Dean by the way.' 

The stranger turns his head back to him, a smile pulling at his lips before he tucks the flyer into the tan satchel over his shoulder. 

'Dean? I'm Castiel.' He replies as he refastens his bag, before he returns his blue gaze to Dean. 

' _Castiel_? That's a weird name… mind if I just call you Cas? It's easier.' Dean replies, the smirk on his lip widening as he watches a smile tug at Castiel's own lips. 

'It's from the Bible, and yes, that'll… I've never had a nickname, before.' He admits after a moment, and Dean frowns at him, watching as he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck rather nervously at that declaration.

'A name like that and no-one has ever shortened it? Either your friends are douches or-'

'I don't really have any.' 

Dean stares at him for a moment before he clears his throat, looking around the room with his lower lip sucked in between his teeth. 

'So, why do you want to move in here?' He questions, deciding to change the conversation because right now, this is heading down a road that Dean really doesn't want to deal with right now. Especially when the dude is still a stranger to him. 

'I… I was thrown out of my old one.' Castiel admits and before Dean can even question _why_ he was thrown out, even though it doesn't really raise any warning bells because hey, this wouldn't have been the first apartment he would've been thrown out of either, Cas is changing the subject. 'Where is the room? Through here?' 

He takes off in the direction he waves and before Dean can even get his thoughts together, he's pushing the door open and stepping into the room. 

'Oh, is this yours?' Cas questions when he stops and sees that the room is still decorated, with clothes sprawled over the floor and posters still on the walls. He looks over his shoulder to Dean, who looks like he's just seen a ghost, his face white and his eyes wide open. 

'No… that's… that's Benny's, the guy who used to have the room. I just never got around to, uh… I'm sorry.' Dean mutters before he shakes his head, moving over to stand beside Cas. 'I'll clean it out for you.' 

Cas turns his gaze back to Dean, and he thinks about asking whether or not that means he's got the apartment, but then he thinks that there's no point in asking that just now. He's literally _just_ got there, Dean's surely got more questions to ask him before he'll even _think_ about offering him the room. 

'How much is it a month?' Cas questions as he slowly walks out of the room, moving back into the living room and letting Dean move out in his own time, and shut the door behind him. 

Dean walks up so he's standing in front of Cas once more. 

'It's five-hundred a month. But we'll, uh, be paying a year behind.' Dean admits before he reaches up and scratches the back of his neck nervously. He only told Charlie about the situation about the apartment and the fact he's a year behind, because he thought she was going to be move in. No-one else looked good enough to bother telling them that information… but Cas, well, he has a _good_ feeling about Cas.

'What? Why? That's not really the norm for apartments in this area… or in general, in fact.' 

'The truth is after Benny was gone, I couldn't afford _food_ , let alone rent and Crowley said it was all right… until people started breathing down his neck and he had to start collecting. It was either sell the only thing that'll make me money one day or get a roommate… so here I am.' Dean admits, waving his hands around the room for emphasis. 'Look, if you don't want to stay here 'cause of that I understand that, don't worry.' 

'Would… would you rather have that paid off first?' Cas asks and Dean frowns because _that's_ his first question? It's not just saying "thank you for your time" and heading to the door? He's actually asking about whether or not he'd like that paid off?

'Uh… if I could actually afford it, I'd love that. But did you miss the bit where I said I can't even afford _food_?' Dean gives him a soft chuckle in reply, but when he finds Cas' eyes once more there's something serious behind them; something determined. 

'I can pay it off. A faith payment for your landlord so he realises that things are going to be okay.' 

Dean's mouth falls open and his eyes almost bulge out of his head at Cas' words. How… he's just… _what_?

'Dude, that'd be six _grand_. If you've got that amount of money on you what the hell are you doing looking for a roommate… or for somewhere to _rent_. You could buy a place with that!' 

'I _could_ ,' Cas smirks, 'but I had a place like that and I ended up getting thrown out due to some… circumstances. I've got reasons for this choice, Dean, and I wish to live here… if that's okay with you.' 

Dean doesn't say anything and merely continues to stare at Cas.  

'I have just a little bit more than that in my savings. If you want me to I _will_ pay whatever you owe so that things start fresh between us. But if you'd rather we slowly work our way back up to recent times, then I'm willing to do that too.' 

Dean clears his throat, looking away from Castiel. He lets his green eyes flicker around the room as his hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck. 

His gaze returns to Castiel after a moment, and when he does, he clears his throat as a soft smile tugs at his lips. He doesn't really know why he's smiling, well, okay, yeah he does. No-one has ever offered to bail him out before. No-one has ever considered doing something that _huge_ for him before, and it's… weird. Sure, it's nice, but it's weird because people just don't do nice things for him. That's not the way the world works. But it's also a _good_ weird. He's just not sure he can accept that.

'Uh, look that's nice. It really is, and I actually can't believe you'd _think_ of doing something like that, let alone seriously mean it, but the thing is, you didn't live here when the debt was run up. That's on my head and technically my roommate's who was actually still alive at the time but was spending his money on,' he stops himself dead, because can he tell this stranger that? Not many people knew that about Benny, and the last thing Dean wants to do is taint his memory. 'Other things,' he decides on, before he shakes his head. That'll just have to do. 'So, thanks for the offer man, seriously, but I think it's best if we just do it this way. I'll pay back a little more - if I can manage it anyways - each month, and you'll just pay your half. I'd rather have that than have you pay _my_ debt. That's not a good way to start being roommates, is it?' 

Dean grins at him and he wonders if the man is going to protest; wonders if he's determined to pay off Dean's loans. But instead, he just nods his head and Dean lets out a sigh of relief. Good. He managed to make himself clear, didn't hurt Cas' pride and somehow managed to put a smile on his face. 

Why the hell was there a smile on his face? 

Dean opens his mouth, ready to ask him where the smile came from, when Cas suddenly clears his throat, the smile disappearing as he turns his head back around to look at the flat. Dean frowns at the sudden change, but doesn't say anything about it. He merely waits for Cas to say something first. 

'Is everything else included in the rent? Electricity, gas, phone bills?' He enquires and Dean wonders how one minute he can be talking about paying off his debt, and then the next enquiring what comes included in the price of rent. The changes of conversation is giving him whiplash, but the way things are going, he better get used to the feeling.

'Yeah. Crowley's good when it comes to _that_.' 

'And what's this "Crowley" like in general? I'll always believe that every landlord is an asshole… I just want to know what _kind_ of asshole this one is.' 

'He's a douchebag.' Dean answers straight away, before he realises that it doesn't _really_ explain what kind of guy Crowley is. 'He's sarcastic and thinks he's funny. He calls himself the King of New York, even though he's not even stepped a foot out of Alphabet City. But sometimes he has his benefits. He's got connections. Back when Benny and I were just starting out, he got us into a few clubs to get our name around. I guess _that's_ why he calls himself the king. But other than that, he's an asshole, and I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him - which isn't very far, he packs a few extra pounds.' 

Dean finishes ranting and it isn't until he's ran through all that he said, that he remembers he actually _wants_ Cas to want this apartment. He doesn't want to scare him away by the idea that their landlord is going to be the biggest dick ever.

'This isn't the only apartment building he owns, is it?' Cas questions and there's something in his voice that Dean finds peculiar. Something dark and dangerous at the very idea of Crowley owning other apartment buildings, which is strange in itself. 

'No, he owns one on Avenue B, and I _think_ he has one of Avenue D, but don't quote me on that.' Dean admits, shrugging his shoulders because he's just heard rumours about him owning something on Avenue D. He's not actually seen it with his own eyes or asked the douche himself. 

'He does.' Cas declares and Dean can't help the frown that pulls on his face, because if Cas already knew, why did he ask? But Dean's not about to get into that right now. He's just met the dude, and by the way things are going, he's going to be sharing an apartment with him. For a long time, probably. Hopefully… _hopefully_ where the hell did that come from? 

He shakes his head.

Either way, he's got plenty of time to figure Castiel out. He doesn't need to do it within the first hour. 

'D'you have any other questions?' Dean asks. ''Bout the apartment or building or area, or… me?' He adds the last word almost hesitantly, because he's not sure if that's just going to look weird or what, but he's already said it and now he can't take it back. Even if he wishes he could, because Cas' eyes are narrowed and fixed on him, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't fucking _read_ the expression on Cas' face. 

'What do you do?' 

'What… do I do? Like, work wise?' Dean clarifies and when Cas nods his head, Dean bites the inside of his cheek before replying. 'I work at a bar, _Harvelle's Roadhouse_.' 

'As a bartender?' 

'Yeah. They're family friends and it's not exactly the best paying job, but it does, and -'

'You pick up some spare money busking.' Cas cuts him off, finishing the sentence for him and Dean frowns at him. He's about to ask how the _hell_ he knows that, when Cas smirks and points towards the guitar that lies on the couch. 'Most people who play an instrument in this town busk. I just thought it was an obvious deduction.' 

Dean tears his eyes away from Baby, turning back to Cas and suddenly he's curious about him and what he does. 

'What do you do?' 

Cas' eyes meet his and he doesn't say anything, not for a good moment or two. Their eyes remained locked on each other in the silence, and Dean feels the room growing warmer and it's definitely not because Crowley decided to turn his heating back on. 

Dean frowns at the avoidance of his question when after another minute passes= Castiel still hasn't answered his question. He didn't think it was _that_ personal, and after all, isn't that a decent question to ask? He needs to know that he'll be able to afford half the rent. Though he did mention earlier that he had nearly six grand in his bank, so Dean has no doubts that he won't skip or miss on payments. 

He clears his throat, eyes breaking away from Cas' as he does so, and when he lifts them to meet his gaze once more, he's made his mind up. 

'If you want the room, it's yours.' He states, not even bothering to phrase it any other way or try and ask anymore questions. He was pretty damn certain that he was going to get the room ever since he saw him at the door. He just had a feeling about him… as weird as that sounds. 

Cas' entire face lights up. His eyes widen at the news and his mouth breaks into the widest smile that Dean has ever seen on a person. There's a beat of silence before he starts laughing with relief and happiness, and Dean finds that he can't help but join in. 

'Thank you. _Thank you_!' Cas repeats until Dean just shakes his head and tells him it was no problem. He thinks about adding that he had pretty much made the decision to give him the room the second he saw him, but decides that's just over-sharing. 

'So I'm guessing you want it?' 

'Of course! When can… when can I move in?' 

'Whenever you've got your stuff ready.' Dean declares. 'I can leave the door open so you can go back and get your stuff, then come back. That'll give me time to clear some of Benny's stuff out.' 

Suddenly the happy expression is gone from Cas' face and Dean wonders what he said wrong. 

Before he can prompt him, however, Cas is already explaining, 'Well, everything I own is in my satchel.' He pats his tan bag that's strung over his shoulder, and Dean's eyes zone in on it. It's not the biggest bag he's ever seen, and he seriously can't see how Cas can say _all_ of his possessions are in that small bag. 

He doesn't say anything on it, though, even though he finds it weird. Dean's green eyes mainly flicker over to Benny's room, gnawing on his lower lip. 

'Well, that's fine. You can stay tonight then, but is it all right if you crash on the couch? Just for tonight until I get Benny's room sorted out.' Dean questions and he wonders if this is going to sound really selfish, because there's still a perfectly good bed in there. He just doesn't want Cas in that room with Benny's stuff. 

Cas nods his head, 'Of course.' 

Dean grins, a wide smile as he waves his hands out around the room, before he extends one towards Cas for a shake.

When Cas grabs ahold of it and gives it a firm shake, he states, 'Welcome home, buddy.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	3. To the Struggling Bohemians

Dean stops the second he stumbles out of his bedroom and finds Castiel lying comatose on the sofa. It takes the briefest of minutes before he remembers just why there's a random dude lying on his couch, pieces of paper strewn around him and a notepad that had fallen to the ground, obviously from Cas' grasp.

Dean shivers when the cold air of the apartment hits him, and he hisses through his teeth as he walks over to the heating. He picks up the first thing his fingers reach as he makes his way over to the ancient piece of equipment, which just so happens to be a green jumper. He tugs it over his head, sighing as it immediately starts to make a difference to his temperature.

He raises his hand and gives the heating box a sharp bang, before his eyes widen and he turns back to Cas, ready to apologise for waking him up. 

However, instead of seeing Castiel sitting upright, he's still lying on his side, arms tucked under the pillow on his makeshift bed. He has shuffled and shifted a little with the noise, but still remains fast asleep. 

Dean can't seem to stop the grin that tugs at his lips. 

'Heavy sleeper, I guess.' He murmurs under his breath before he turns back to the box. He pulls open the door, gritting his teeth when he realises that the problem isn't with his box, it's from the mains, meaning that that _dickhead_ Crowley must have turned it off, just to fuck with him. 

Or maybe… just _maybe_ the whole building is experiencing problems with their heating, and it's not just Crowley being the biggest fucking douche to ever walk the earth.

Even though he doesn't believe it for a second, Dean makes his way over to the door, stepping onto the landing and walking over to his next door neighbour, knocking on the door three times before waiting. 

'Dean, what are you doing here? Checkups are usually on Fridays.' Krissy grins at him the second the door is open, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the frame of the door. 

Dean rolls his eyes at her, taking in what she's wearing; the usual tank top and flannel shirt, with jeans. That really gives nothing away to Dean about the temperature inside her apartment, seeing as that's what the young woman always wears - whether it's winter or summer.

'Funny, you'll know about that when you end up dying and no-one finds your body.' Dean retorts, reaching up to ruffle her brown hair that is - surprisingly - not pulled into a ponytail. 

She gives a shout in protest, moving away from his reach and looks at him with a soft glare on her face. 

'Is your heating working, kid?' He questions, deciding that she probably wants to get back into her apartment. He still can't believe that a nineteen-year-old is making it in New York. He knows she stays with her three close friends, Josephine, Hael and Claire, but still… she's braver than he ever was at that age. 

Hell, there are still times when New York City scares him.

'Yeah, it's roast toasty. Why?' Her features soften for a beat, before they mould into a glare once more but this time it isn't directed at him. 'Crowley shut it off, didn't he? What a _dick_! We need to do something about him.' 

'Well, he's probably just pissed that I found a roommate and now he can't throw me out.' 

'Woah, back up, he was gonna throw you out?' Krissy questions, and whilst he definitely wants to fill her in on what's been happening, seeing as she's like Jo - the little sister he never wanted, but seemed to get anyway - he really needs to get back inside.

'I'll tell you about it on Saturday at the bar, kid, I just needed to make sure it was actually Crowley before I went and broke his nose.' He goes to turn away, but before he can fully turn another thought pops into his head and he turns back to her. 'You four are good, right? You don't need any help?' 

A soft smile pulls at Krissy's lips as she tilts her head to the side, her arms falling from their position of being crossed over her chest. 

''Course we are. I'd let you know if we weren't.' 

He nods his head before he envelopes her in a hug, resting his head briefly on the top of hers before pressing a soft kiss there. 

'See you later, Krissy.' 

He moves back to his apartment, grinning to himself as he shakes his head in amusement when he realises that Castiel is still fast asleep on the couch. Though he's moved even more now, curling in on himself and it's apparent that the cold is starting to get to him. 

Dean bites his bottom lip before he walks over to Benny's room. His jaw clenches as he looks around himself - he really needs to clean this out tonight - but he keeps his goal in his mind. He walks over to his bed, stripping the duvet from its place on top of the mattress. 

As soon as it's bundled up in his grasp, he moves back out to the living room, careful to shut the door behind him so he doesn't have to keep looking inside it. 

Castiel is only covered by a thin little blanket that he had obviously brought with him, seeing as Dean can't recall ever owning something like that, and it's obviously not doing a very good job at keeping him warm. 

So, Dean swallows hard before he covers Cas with the duvet, spreading it over him and tucking it just under his chin, grinning to himself when the man immediately grabs ahold of it and buries his face into the warmth of the covers. 

Dean goes to move away from him, to let him sleep as he goes to deal with Crowley, but before he can get that far he catches a glimpse of the notepad he had spotted earlier lying on the floor by the couch. 

He moves over and picks it up, deciding to place it on the table by the sofa so that Cas knew where it was, before he went and dealt with Crowley. However, as soon as he picks the notepad up, his eyes can't seem to stop themselves from trailing over the first line that's been written in a really beautiful and elegant scrawl. 

" _His touch is soft as it trails down her spine; cool, cold fingers brushing against the chiffon fabric of her shirt. Her breath hitches despite herself, but she pulls away from him, shoving herself away as he puts distance between them both."_

Dean frowns to himself, finding that there's something special about the style of his writing, which is saying something because Dean knows his books; knows whether or not something has potential or not… well, potential for him anyway. 

He can tell from the first sentence whether or not he's going to keep reading, and despite the fact that this is Castiel's work and he's not even been given permission to read it, he can't seem to stop himself. 

He moves around, the notepad clenched in his hand as he wipes the table clean, throwing the several scraps of paper and rubbish onto the floor, before he sits down on the glass table, folding his legs under himself as he starts to read it from where he left off.

Dean doesn't mean to read more than a page, but as the drama grows between the man and the woman, soon growing to a vicious fight between the two, he finds he can't stop himself. He keeps turning and turning the page, until he's suddenly got nothing else to read as the page goes blank on the next turn. 

'No fucking way.' He snaps as he starts to flick impatiently through the notepad, looking for signs of the next part - that maybe he had just started it off on a different page when he was tired and sleepy. 

But nothing. 

'I haven't written any more yet.' Castiel's gravelly voice declares, and Dean's eyes widen as the snap towards his new roommate. He's vaguely aware of the fact that his voice is even deeper and rougher than it was before, having been drenched with hours of sleep. 

His hair is in disarray and when Dean's green eyes meet Cas' vivid blue ones, he finds that there isn't any annoyance or such in his gaze. His head is titled to the side, sure, but there's not much else.

Dean folds the cover of the book over, folding it so he can no longer see the writing and instead just sees the standard cover, a frown on his face. He clears his throat and extends it out towards Castiel. 

'I'm sorry. I, uh, I didn't mean to… sorry.' 

Castiel takes the notepad back without another word, giving Dean a small, one-shouldered shrug in response. 

'It's not a problem. I guess I should be thankful you enjoyed it enough to keep reading.' Cas replies as he opens it up to the first page, his eyes flickering through the various lines, a frown appearing on his face as he does so. 'Though I don't see how you _could_ enjoy it.'

He throws the notebook on the table, letting it land on the table beside Dean with a soft thud. 

Dean looks between the notebook and Castiel, a deep frown on his face as he tries to think over his statement, before he shakes his head as he decides to focus on Cas. 

'You don't like it?' 

Cas shrugs again, his hand coming up to comb through his hair as he stifles as yawn.

'I like the idea, but… I don't know, it could be better.' He murmurs as pushes the covers away from his person, looking at them with a look of confusion etched on his face. 'I didn't fall asleep with this.' 

'Uh, no,' Dean reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. 'I put it over yo this morning, it was… our heating isn't working.' 

He doesn't know why he feels like blushing - why he actually _is_ blushing, as he can feel the warmth spread against his cheeks - and he actively ignores how easily it was to slot "our" into that sentence, as if it was always just them.

'You didn't tell me you were an author.' Dean says, deciding to change the subject, deciding that he's not quite ready to face any of those facts. He just needs to think of something different right now, and not about how easy it is to fix Castiel into his life already. 

Cas studies him for a long moment, blue eyes raking over his face, moving from eye to eye, from lips to nose to lips again, before they refocus on his eyes. As soon as their gaze connects, he seems to see something deep within Dean's emerald eyes, for he clears his throat and doesn't even ask or think about the covers after that. 

'It didn't come up.' He answers, as he pulls himself into a better position, sitting upright as he pushes the covers away from his person, bundling them in a pile on the empty seat of the sofa. 

Dean doesn't say anything for a bit, mostly because he's wondering if Castiel has a really bad memory because he can distinctly remember asking Castiel what he did for a living, just after Dean had admitted to working at the _Roadhouse_ and working as a busker. 

But he's not in the mood for an argumen, and seriously doesn't want to get on Castiel's bad side - though he's not going to admit that aloud.

'And anyway,' Castiel is talking again, speaking out a thought that must have popped into his mind as Dean was busy debating whether his roommate didn't listen to him yesterday, or has the worst memory of all humankind. 'I wouldn't really call myself an author; an author usually gets _paid_ for the work they do. I normally just create stories that never see the light of day.'

'That's a shame.' Dean replies, his eyes landing on the notepad that still sits in Castiel's hands, and he finds that he wants to pull it from his grasp and reread his story again. 'It was really good, Cas, like… really good. And believe me, I know good books.' 

'You do?' The words slip free from Castiel's mouth before he can stop them, and as soon as he realises he has said that aloud, his mouth snaps shut with an audible clatter, and a pretty red blush decorates his cheeks. 'I am sorry; I didn't mean anything, I swear…' 

Dean just shakes his head with a chuckle, 'You're not the first person to assume that I'm stupid. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not as smart as my little brother, Sammy; _he's_ the genius of the family, but… I'm not as stupid as some other people would believe.'

'I didn't think you were stupid, I just didn't imagine you the kind to enjoying reading. I just…' Cas trails off with a shrug, when he realises that he's just digging himself into an even bigger hole; one that if he keeps talking, he won't be able to climb out of.

'Vonnegut's my favourite, but I've read enough in my time to know what works for me and what doesn't, and trust me when I say - because I don't bullshit or sugarcoat things - you're stuff has all the working potential to be published and be a best seller one day.'

Cas ducks his head, his eyes finally breaking away from Dean's face to study the now very interesting sight of his notepad. His eyes trail over the black and grey paper of the front cover, trying to stop the heat that is creeping up his neck and spreading across his face. 

Thankfully, Dean doesn't say anything to him about it, and doesn't even seem to have a twinkle in his eyes about causing any mischief when Castiel finally lifts his head and meets Dean's gaze again.

'And besides, just because you don't get paid doesn't mean that you aren't an author. I'm sure many people would protest to calling me a musician. I mean, I work at the _Roadhouse_ most of the time, if I'm anything, I'm a bartender… but whenever someone asks me, I say musician because it's what I _want_ to be.' 

'You didn't tell me that first. You said you just worked at the _Roadhouse_.' 

'Yeah, well, I didn't exactly think you'd take the flat if you didn't think I made any money. I was at the end of my tether, I didn't think I was going to find a roommate and thought I was going to be living on the street, and seriously, you were the only person who I actually _wanted_ to move in with me.' 

As soon as Dean realises what's come out of his mouth, it is his turn to blush and duck his head, but Castiel, sensing his embarrassment doesn't say anything about his previous statement, despite how much he wants to. He wants to know what made Dean want to convince him to move in - so much that he was willing to hide his dream to convince Cas to stay. 

He wants to know, but he knows that Dean doesn't want to say, so he just puts a small smile on his face and murmurs, 'I guess that's true. But I still wouldn't call myself an author.' 

Dean rolls his eyes, a scoff breaking free from his lips and he puts it to the back of his mind that there's still red decorating his cheeks.

He is about to say something in reply when there's a knock at the door, and both of their heads whip around to the large metal door with frowns on their faces. 

'Dean?' Krissy's voice comes through the door, and when Dean realises that it's her, he calls at her to just come in. He doesn't expect for Krissy, Hael, Claire and Josephine to come wandering through the threshold, stepping into his apartment after sliding the door open.

Dean immediately goes into parent-mode and stands from his seat on the table, turning to them with his frown deepening. 

'What's wrong?' His voice is laden with such concern that Cas finds himself turning to look at Dean instead of the four teenagers in front of him, surprised and warmed by how much concern Dean has for the girls. 

The girls, however, don't seem to be so warmed for they all either roll their eyes or let out a groan of annoyance. 

'Calm down, _dad_.' Josephine rolls her eyes. 'Krissy told us about your roommate, and we just came through to meet him.'

Dean - who had _just_ felt the heat on his face finally fade - feels his cheeks warm up once again, his jaw clenching as he tries top figure out what the hell to do with that. 

'Dean?' Claire's voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns his gaze back to the blonde, before he forces a smile onto his face. 

'Uh, right.' He moves away from standing in front of Cas, so that the girls can see him and when he can, Castiel stands from his seat with a small smile. 'This is Castiel. Cas, this is Claire,' he points to the blonde, who looks to be the youngest of them all. 'Her girlfriend, Hael,' he points to one of the brunettes, who has eyes as vivid and blue as Castiel's. 'Then there's Krissy,' Dean points to the other brunette who wears a smirk that reminds Cas of an old friend of his so much that his heart aches. 'And her girlfriend, Josephine.'

The dark-skinned girl raises her hand in a wave, whilst the other three murmur a "hey" in reply. 

'It's nice to meet you. How long have you been living in Alphabet City?'

'Josephine and I have been staying here since we both lost our parents when we were seventeen. Hael and Claire came a year ago.' Krissy answers. 'But we're one big family, aren't we, Dean?' 

'Oh yeah, me, the horrible foursome and Jojo, that sounds like a great family.' Dean rolls his eyes, a smirk appearing on his face as he does so. 

'"Jojo"?' Castiel questions with a small frown on his face. 

'She's like my little sister. Jo Harvelle; her mom owns the _Roadhouse_.' Dean explains, before he turns her gaze back to the girls. 'So, what else did you want other than to ogle my new roommate?' 

Hael starts to make a noise of protest, but a look from Dean kills it on her lips. 

'I know you four, what d'you want?' 

'D'you have food?' Hael is the one to answer him, and when both Dean and Cas just look at her, she rambles on, 'We thought we had stuff, but a, uh, rat got in and the stuff we had isn't good anymore. And we don't have enough money between us to buy new stuff, so yeah… do you have food?'

'I asked you earlier if you were good or if you needed anything and you said no!' Dean accuses Krissy, who raises her hands in surrender. 

'Woah, I said that I'd _let you know_ if we needed anything. Now, I'm letting you know.' Krissy protests. 

Dean looks between each of the four teenagers, meeting each of their gazes for three seconds each, before moving on to the next one. When he's met all of their gazes, he turns to Castiel, remembering that he has a roommate now, he needs his approval before he goes and starts making breakfast for fifty-thousand. 

He doesn't think that Cas will understand his gaze, hell, the only person who seems to understand the various looks in Dean's eyes is Sam. 

Surprisingly though, Cas nods his head and says, 'We can't just let them starve now, can we?' 

'I like him already.' Claire declares as she grabs ahold of Hael's hand and pulls her further into the apartment, plopping them both down on the sofa, making themselves at home.

'Same here.' Hael answers, her eyes flickering up and down his body, examining him with curiosity. 'Though I must say, you look familiar. What did you say your last name was?' 

Cas only hesitates a slight moment, his eyes that are so similar to Hael's meeting hers a second later, 'Novak.' 

'Novak?' Hael's eyes narrow only slightly, but it's not enough for anyone else to notice. There's a beat before her eyes relax and she shakes her head. 'Haven't heard it before, must be thinking of someone else.' 

The briefest of smiles flicks onto Cas' lips, before it falls off as he turns back to Dean, who was now being steered into the kitchen by Krissy and Josephine, each who had their arms hooked through each one of his. 

'So what's on the menu?' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean sits with the guitar on his lap, face turned towards him as he fixes one of the strings that had broke the last time he had played it. He pulls the string free, glaring at it as he throws it on the floor and picks up the new one. Another five bucks gone that he couldn't afford. 

'The things I do for you, Baby.' He murmurs as he starts to thread the string through the hole. 

'Did you say something?' Cas enquires, as he lifts his head upright, turning to Dean with a frown on his face. Dean turns his head to gaze back at him, the answer on his tongue when he finds he can't get a word out.

His green gaze greets the sight of Castiel's lips wrapped around the pen he was using to write only moments ago. Dean's eyes zone in on the sight of those plump yet slightly chapped lips wrapped around the thin body of the body, and he totally does _not_ think about adding bananas to the next shopping list. 

'Dean?' 

The pen is removed from between Castiel's lips and Dean clears his throat as he closes his eyes, trying to get that sight out of his mind, though this seems to help _sear_ it into his brain instead. 

'Uh, no, I was just talking to Baby.' He answers, turning back to the guitar that lies forgotten on his lap. 

'"Baby"?' Castiel smiles wide, and Dean totally does not think about those little crinkles that appear at the corner of his eyes, giving away the fact that the man was older than Dean was - but not by much. 'I'm sure she makes all your girlfriends jealous.' 

'Oh yeah, all the time. They know I dig their curves, but Baby's is the only ones I truly love.' Dean runs his hand down the curve of his guitar's body for extra emphasis, which draws a chuckle from Cas. 'And both the gals and the guys seem jealous of how well I can finger her.' 

He turns back to Cas, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively as he sticks his tongue out at him, only to have the joking expression fall off his face a moment later when he's greeted by a shocked expression. 

' _Fuck_.' He whispers. 'Look, I didn't mean to - like, I understand if you're weirded… in fact, no I don't, but I still want you to stay… in fact, no I don't want that either. If you're one of those stuck up, shoving-religion-up-someone's-ass Uptowners, then I don't want you staying in my apartment. I'd rather live in the streets.' 

Cas' eyes widen in worry, before he's standing from his seat, hands fluttering around him like a worried and lost kid. 

'No, no, no! You misunderstand! I… I just… never… I'm in _that_ spectrum. I'm uh, demisexual.' Dean's face suddenly goes from challenging to blank, and so Cas realises that he needs to explain himself more. 'It means that I, I don't normally experience sexual attraction unless I've got a strong emotional connection with them; whether they're female or… male.' 

'Huh. I never knew about that.' He grins at Cas. 'You learn something new everyday, I suppose. Though that's _got_ to be a bitch. Can't get it up unless you've got a strong emotional connection?' 

Cas shrugs. 'I don't want to get it up for just anyone, so it doesn't really bother me.' 

He turns and sits back down on his seat, picking the pen up once more as Dean returns to restringing Baby, though their gazes do flicker to each other every now and then.

He's not sure how long they sit in silence for, but judging by the fact he's managed to restring Baby _and_ get her tuned, it's got to be about ten minutes.

'Y'know,' he starts up, turning to watch Cas to make sure he's actually listening to him. The older man looks up, sitting his pen on top of his notepad before he turns his entire body in the chair so that he's facing Dean; his _entire_ attention is now on Dean, just with one little word.

Dean's not sure how to feel about that.

'Some of us are going to the _Roadhouse_ on Saturday; well, the four freeloaders next door, Jo will be there, I'm thinking about inviting someone who was interested in the apartment - her name's Charlie and she's pretty cool - and her girlfriend. And just a bunch of other people that I'm sure you'll meet at some point.' Dean's eyes fall away from Castiel's then, just before he's about to get the words out. God, since when does he have a problem asking people to a bar with him? It's not like it's a _date_ he's asking Cas out on. 'I was just wondering if you wanted to go. Get to know the guys and that; feel more included whenever they drop by, 'cause days like today with people randomly showing up… that happens a lot in my life.'

Castiel doesn't say anything, not straight away anyway like Dean had been expecting, so he finds himself scrambling to add, 'You don't have to. I just thought I'd ask you and even if you don't want to go, y'know, it was to let you know as well.'

A small smile pulls at the corner of Cas' mouth, almost as if he enjoys seeing Dean flustered and worked up, and Dean doesn't really know how he feels if that's true. Then again, he's sure that something like that could also be a lot of fun… and no, he is not having thoughts like that about his new roommate!

'Saturday? To meet the people who's like your family? Yeah, I think that sounds like a lot of fun.' Castiel mutters, nodding his head in affirmation. 'Besides, some embarrassing stories may come up that I could use as blackmail later on.' 

Cas can't help but laugh loudly when Dean's face falls first, before his green eyes narrow in playful warning. 

'Oh, so you think you can play with the big boys? Huh? Oh, we'll see about that.' Dean declares, before he turns his attention back to Baby, safe in the knowledge that Cas has no idea what he's planning on doing, and the best part is, has no idea when he's going to do it.

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

'This is miles away from the apartment, Dean! You told me it would only take five minutes!' 

'Oh quit complaining, we're nearly there.' Dean retorts as he buries his hand further into his leather jacket, trying to hide them from the bitingly cold air of New York City. 

'Why didn't we just get a cab?' Cas whines as he pulls the lapels of his trench-coat, tugging it around his person for the same reason as Dean; New York really was a bitch when it was cold. 

''Cause I nearly got killed the last time I took one; but then I forgot that you're apparently a millionaire.' Dean rolls his eyes. 'I still don't understand what you're doing staying with me when you've got that much money in your bank.' 

'It's not in _my_ bank. I would've had to jump through a lot of hoops for that, but I was willing to do it for you.' 

Dean stumbles, apparently forgetting how to work his feet when he hears Cas' statement, but luckily, Cas' hands fly out and steady him, stopping him from landing flat on his face. 

'So… _you're_ not rich, your family is?' Dean guesses and when Cas just shrugs once more, Dean takes that as confirmation of his presumption. He lets out a low whistle in reply which makes Cas clench his jaw so hard a muscle twitches. 

'Why leave that and live the bohemian life? I mean, I'm up for anyone who's a struggling anarchist bohemian…' Dean trails off when something occurs to him and he nods his head slowly, ' _that's_ why you're not with them. They don't approve of who you really are.' 

Cas' lips quirk in a humourless smile. 'Got it in one.' 

'Well, you've definitely come to the right place. Jo grew up without a dad, I grew up with an abusive dad and a dead mom, Krissy, Josephine and Claire lost their family when they were just entering teens, and Hael had been passed from foster home to foster home. This isn't the Avant Guard… it's the Dead-Beat-Family Club.' 

'I should fit right in then.' Cas murmurs with a sarcastic smile on his face, before he nods his head across the street. 'That's it right?' 

'Yeah.' Dean murmurs, wondering how the hell Cas got them here, seeing as Dean had been so preoccupied with playing twenty-one questions with Cas's life that he missed the alley to turn down to take them to the bar. 

Cas starts to cross the street, apparently unaware of the confusion that Dean's experiencing, but after shaking his head, Dean follows him a moment later, deciding that it's probably just coincidence. It was a popular bar… it's just, if Cas had been there before, Dean would have saw him. 

'What should I expect, by the way?' Cas questions just before they enter the _Roadhouse_. 

'Jo will act friendly but will silently be testing you, Ellen won't be friendly until she's sure you've passed. The girls already know you, so they'll be on your side; Charlie and her girlfriend are new just like you, so chances are they'll stick by you. Ash is like a big genius puppy with a mullet. You'll be fine, though. Like I said, Dead-Beat-Family Club.' 

Dean doesn't give Cas to adjust to that and pushes the door open. He pushes Cas in before himself, letting everyone's head snap around to him first, frowns on their faces until they see Dean walk in beside him. 

'Guys, this is Cas. Cas, this is… the Club.' 

'Oh, so you're the new member? What do you have? Dead parents, abusive ones or maybe even both?' Jo mutters, a wide smile spreading across her face as she sets the cloth down onto the bar, momentarily forgetting about wiping it down like she was doing before. 

'Uh,' Cas turns his head to Dean, wondering if he should really answer, and when all Dean does is shrug before taking his jacket off and hanging it up, Cas realises it's up to him. He decides to answer her. 'Dead mom, runaway dad, dead best friend and unsupportive and abusive siblings.'

'Wow.' Jo lets out a low whistle, that reminds Cas so much of Dean's just moments before. How could they _not_ be real siblings? 'That sucks. C'mon and get a drink, Cas.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

'Dean! Get up and give us a song!' Ruby shouts, having joined the party only ten minutes after Dean and Cas had. 'I'll be your drummer if you want!' 

Dean has every intention of telling her no, but when everyone in the bar starts cheering for him to get on the stage - Cas included - he finds that he can't let the entire bar down. 

'Right, c'mon Minnie-Mouse.' He grins as he downs the remainder of his beer, before hopping off his stool and walking over to the stage. He doesn't like playing any guitar other than Baby, but he didn't bring her with him tonight, so instead he's stuck with the shitty one that Ellen kept for anyone who felt brave enough to get onstage. 

Ruby slips in behind the drum kit, after giving Dean a sore punch for calling her the nickname that she hates. When she's seated, Dean moves in front of the mic and pulls the guitar over his head, setting it up and adjusting it so it's good. He plucks each string, testing to make sure they're in tune and fixing them if they're not, and as he does this, Dean turns and watches Cas take shots with both Jo and Ellen. 

He can't help but let out a scoff of laughter when he knocks back six shots of tequila in one go, and mutters after it, 'I think I'm starting to feel something.' 

Jo and Ellen share a look before they dissolve into laughter, Jo wrapping her arms around Cas' shoulders, using him to keep her upright, and that's when Dean realises something. 

He really got lucky with having Cas as his roommate. And it's with this thought in his mind, does Dean pluck the first chord after Ruby's count-in and starts to play. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	4. Broke Jigsaw Pieces

Dean didn't have the heart to throw any of Benny's old stuff away when he finally gutted the room out for Cas. Nearly five months had passed since Castiel came knocking at his door, just when he thought all hope was lost, and he still hasn't bothered moving the three boxes of Benny's things out of his own room. 

Cas, thank God, didn't even question when he noticed that Dean was just moving things from Benny's old room into boxes, and then shifting those through to his own bedroom. He just gave Dean a look as if to say that he understood just what he was going through, and continued to help him box Benny's possessions and move them into his room. 

Dean didn't think about how easy it was to let Castiel handle Benny's thing, trusting him to not throw anything but the actual garbage in a bag, and put everything else in a box. But it _was_ easy - really fucking surprisingly easy - but no, Dean didn't allow himself to think about that. 

He also doesn't think about the boxes that still sit in the corner in a tall stack, he just ignores them. The only time he is ever in his bedroom is when he's sleeping, so it's easy enough to just forget about them. Most of the time he's in the living room, just spending time with Cas. 

It's weird, they don't really talk much, instead they just sit it each other's company. Dean normally makes the background noise by strumming out a tune for a new song, but even though Cas says that all his new music is awesome, Dean can't see it. 

He crumples up the paper that he had been jotting down some notes on, before throwing it in the fire that they keep going all day and all night, because the heating has a habit of "breaking down" every couple of days. 

Cas always looks a little sad when he does that, but Dean can't help it. Nothing he plays sounds good anymore.

After one more attempt at a song, he stops playing when it doesn't flow quite right, and in his annoyance he nearly throws Baby across the room in his frustration.  Instead of doing that, however, he just lets out a shout, placing Baby down - rather loudly - one the table he sits at. 

Cas looks up from his work, a frown evident on his face and Dean can't decide if it's from what he's working on, or whether he's trying to figure out what's got Dean so wound up. 

'What's wrong?' 

'Me! I'm what's wrong. I don't know what I thought, thinking I could make it as a musician, I can hardly play guitar and my voice is _shit_. I should just stick to pouring drinks at the _Roadhouse_.' 

Dean is too busy ranting that he doesn't see Castiel move; doesn't see him quietly place his pen on top of his notepad, before backing up his chair and standing from it. He doesn't notice that Cas walks at a slow pace over to him, jaw clenched so tight a muscle twitches and jumps in protest. 

It isn't until he's finished, and when Cas is standing directly in front of him does he notice, and he jumps back a foot with a gasp. 

'Jesus, Cas, give a man some warning.' Dean jokes, plastering a smile on his face, trying to forget about the sneer that's on Cas' face, as if Dean had just said the most blasphemous and horrible thing known to man. 'Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?' 

'"I can hardly play guitar"? "My voice is shit"? That's how you view yourself?' Cas growls, his voice low and dangerous and Dean seems to grow smaller, shielding himself away from his roommate even though he's got an extra inch or two advantage, as well as more bulk. 'Are you really _fucking insane_?' 

Dean, despite the fear that is genuinely eating away at his core, rolls his eyes and stands up straighter, eyes finally meeting Castiel's once again. 

'Look, Cas, I know you're just trying to make me feel better but there's no need. I know what I am, Benny made the band whole and without him, it's just me playing badly.' 

Cas grits his teeth together, breathing out harshly through his nose in an effort to calm himself down, and whilst it helps a little, it doesn't help as well as he had hoped. 

'Oh, so when people went to see Led Zeppelin, it was for Bonzo, not Robert Plant? Or what about when someone goes to a Nirvana concert, it's nothing about listening to Kurt Cobain, it's just about listening to Dave Grohl. How could I forget, it's the drummer that people listen to. They tune out the guitars and bass and vocals, just to listen to the sound of constant banging.' Cas vents, unable to stop himself. 'I'm not saying that they're not an important part of the band, but there is no lying that it's the frontman that makes the band. Look at Queen; they still call themselves Queen, but without Freddie Mercury? No-one is gonna look their way.' 

'Nice. Giving me a pep talk by trashing my friend?' Dean questions, not even thinking that he doesn't refer to Benny as his "best friend" like he used to do all the time. 

'I am _not_ trashing Benny Lafitte!' Cas snaps. 'All I'm saying is that Purgatory was more than just him, and that people don't stay if the guitarist and vocalist isn't up to par. Even Meg admitted that you were fucking fantastic, and trust me when I say that she wasn't an easy person to please. She was probably the only person out there that though Robert Plant's was, and I quote, "it's not bad, just so-so, I guess". So just sot being a self-depreciative jackass for five minutes, and write a damn song.' 

Dean's mind is whirling by the time Cas is finished his rant and turning away from him, moving to go and sit back down on the sofa with his notebook. 

He doesn't know what shocked him the most; the pure conviction in Cas' voice as he tried to convince Dean he wasn't as bad as he thought or that he knew Benny's last name as well as what their band was called, or apparently that some chick called Meg that Cas knew had actually seen Dean perform - and enjoyed him.

He puts the thought of knowing the names from his mind for now, knowing that the band's posters were plastered all around New York City, so there is a good chance that Castiel had maybe seen one of those, and that would also explain how he knew Benny's last name; that was also on the poster. 

No, instead, what he focuses on is the fact that there's some chick called Meg in Castiel's life. That name… it's just too familiar for Dean's liking. He's more than positive he's heard Benny talk about some Meg. And Dean knows enough about Benny and his life to know that his friends weren't exactly the best people. 

In fact, they were normally the worst kind of people. The kind of people who shared their drugs and needles. The kind that Dean would do anything to disassociate himself with. 

And if Castiel's Meg was the same as Benny's Meg, that could only mean one thing, right? That Cas was involved with that shit as well. 

'Who's,' he clears his throat, trying to get his thoughts in order, 'who's Meg? The chick you said listened to me and thought I was good?' 

Cas' eyes move away from his paper and turn to Dean once more, and whilst not all of the annoyance had disappeared, there was enough of a difference that Dean didn't feel the desire to put a piece of solid lead between them. 

'Meg Masters. She was my roommate before I moved in with you.' Castiel answers, and Dean doesn't miss how his answer is short and to the point. He knows that this is Castiel's favoured method of reply; he doesn't like drawing things out or adding unnecessary information, but this reply is too clipped for Dean to think it's just his personality at play. 

'What happened to her?' 

'What do you mean? Why has something got to her?' 

'Because one, I know you Cas, no matter how short that time has been, I somehow _know_ you, and I know your replies and mannerisms; two, I've been in that position. I know what it's like to lose someone you thought you'd never have to lose. Not to mention, I doubt you'd be here if something didn't happen to her. So, spill, what happened to her?' 

Cas gives a loud sigh and finds himself turning towards Dean, giving him his full attention as he sets his notepad onto the coffee table, not allowing it to distract him. He wishes he doesn't have to have this talk, but Dean has asked and he knows he can't say no to Dean Winchester. They haven't known each other for a _long_ time, but there's something between them… some bond that makes both of them feel like they have been in the other's life since birth.

'She died. About a month before I moved in with you.' Cas declares softly, and when his shoulders sag, as if he's holding the weight of the world and is getting weaker with every second, Dean suddenly wishes he didn't pry for an answer. Not if it causes Cas this much pain. 

But another part of him, a more selfish part, felt like he _needed_ to know. He needed to know if Cas was into the same thing that Benny was, because Dean needs to know whether he needs to prepare himself for another early funeral. 'I guess that makes it, what? Six months now?'

'What happened to her?' 

'HIV. She, uh, she used to do heroin and she caught it from sharing needles with someone infected. She was sixteen at the time. First couple of years she didn't even know she had it, and then after she was diagnosed, she couldn't afford treatment, and wouldn't let me buy it for her. Told me that she didn't think this life was so great, so why try and prolong the suffering. She got weaker and weaker, and I had to watch as she continued to shove more junk into her system, but… then it got too much for her. I put her into hospital and stayed with her until she died; three-fifty-two-am on the twenty-second of February.

'It was like a wakeup call. She was only twenty- _six_ , and wasn't going to see another day. After that, I went to my family, quit my job and cut all ties with my them - well, except my sister who had ran away two years earlier. I was determined to make it as a writer after that; I wasn't going to keep in the family's business, just to make a runaway dad happy.' A bitter, twisted smile spreads across Castiel's face and Dean wants to reach out and soothe it away. He doesn't deserved such a pained expression on his face; not someone as kind and selfless as Cas. 

Dean abandons all feelings that Cas won't react well to it, and reaches across to grab ahold of his hand, which Cas had balled into a fist. 

They immediately flatten the second Dean's hand covers them, and with only a brief amount of hesitation from both sides, they spread their fingers and allow the other to thread their fingers through the gaps. Castiel squeezes down when their hands are finally joined and Dean smiles at him, rubbing a soothing circle on the back of his hand, just by the bone of his thumb.

'I think I need to meet this sister of yours, and thank her for giving you a backbone.' Dean jokes, an easy grin appearing on his face and it's enough to make one slide onto Cas' lips, ignoring the clenching in his stomach that he's not sure where it came from. It could just be talking about Meg again after all that time, or it could be to do with the fact that Dean's hand is actually entwined with his own.

'I'm sure she'll love you.' Cas replies, before he looks up at Dean, briefly biting his lower lip. 'Did… are you joking or being serious? Because I've made plans to meet her tomorrow, and you can… tag along if you really want to meet her.' 

Originally, Dean had just been joking, but now with the invitation up in the air, he realises that he really wants to meet the only person in Cas' family that he's still talking to. The only person that he's willing to trust with his secrets and life. Dean really wants to meet her, even if it's just to get through another layer of Cas. 

'Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. I mean, you met some of my family, I think it's only fair I get to meet some of yours.' Dean chuckles as his hand squeezes Cas once more, both of them pleased with the weight that has been lifted off their shoulders, the heavy conversation from before no longer hanging in the air. 

They can move on and forget all about it. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

'Dean! Are you coming?' 

'Yeah, Cas, give me a minute!' Dean replies as he pulls his leather jacket on, whilst trying to slip into his boots at the same time. He loses his balance when he lifts his foot, ready to put it into the other shoe, and he stumbles into the boxes that contained all of Benny's possessions. 

One falls onto the floor, the rest of them staying upright in their previous place. It lands on the floor and the contents come spilling out of the box, covering the floor with the papers that had been inside. 

'Fuck!' 

'What is it?' Cas questions as he appears at the door, poking his head through the gap to see what the commotion is about. He frowns when he finds Dean standing with only one shoe on, amidst a shitload of papers that had fallen from one of the boxes. 'What happened?' 

'I bumped into the box and it fell and now everything is fucking _everywhere_.' Dean shakes his head, slipping his foot into his other shoe, before he turns his gaze back to Dean. 'I'll clean it up when we get back from meeting your sister. I don't want us to be late. I've got to make a good impression after all!' 

Dean grins as he wraps his arm around Cas' shoulder, turning him around and steering him out of the room, and then the apartment. 

'Where are we meeting…?' Dean trails off, waiting for Cas to fill in the end of the sentence with his sister's name. 

'Anna.' Cas answers, a smile on his face as he tries not to think about the fact that Dean's arm is still around his shoulders. 'And I told her to meet us at the _Roadhouse_. She seemed determined to see my new watering hole, apparently.' 

'Sounds like my kind of gal.' Dean chuckles, not seeing the way Castiel's face falls with that statement. By the time Dean turns to meet Cas' gaze, he's plastered a smile on his face and has no sign of his previously crestfallen expression. 

'She just broke up with her girlfriend, Muriel, so she's probably just looking for a way to forget.' Cas declares, not sure what his intention is with his statement. He doesn't know if it's just to say something so that Dean doesn't pick up that something is wrong with him, or just to let Dean know that Anna's more interested in women, so he doesn't decide to hit on her.

'Well, the _Roadhouse_ is the best place to get over a broken heart, I can vouch for that.' Dean declares, but before Cas can reply to that, they round the corner and arrive at the bar, where they find a redheaded woman standing outside, leaning against the wall with one high-heeled boot up against it and a hand holding a cigarette. 

'You're smoking again?' Cas questions when he sees her raise it to her lips, taking a deep drag and letting the smoke out in a perfect ring, which immediately prompts Dean to mutter, 'Cool!' 

Both Cas and Anna turn to him, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and a stupid grin on their lips. 

'So this is Dean?' Anna throws the cigarette to the ground, squashing the tip out with her heeled boots that are so high that Dean wonders how the hell she manages to stand in them, let alone walk. Not to mention they look deadly with the countless spikes up the back of the heel. 'He's cute. Now, are we going inside, I'm dying for a drink.' 

Before Cas or Dean can get an answer in, Anna is pushing the door to the _Roadhouse_ open and walking inside, letting it swing shut before they can even get their heads around what just happened.

'So, that's your sister?' 

'Yeah.' 

'Dude, you're nothing alike.' 

Cas smirks, 'I know. I'm glad.' 

Cas wraps his arm around Dean's shoulder and steers him inside the bar, ignoring the flutter that appears in his stomach when Dean lets out a loud bark of laughter. 

'Dean!' Jo's voice rings through the bar, and before Dean can even move his head to find out where his little sister is, she's suddenly by his side, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder, giving Cas just enough time to pull his own arm free before she latches on to Dean. 

'Who's the cute redhead you came with today?' Jo enquires and Dean chuckles. He knows Jo, and knew that something had to be up for her to actually hug him like this, in front of everyone. This most definitely was not a standard greeting, and nearly everyone in the bar knew that.

Even Cas knew that. 

'Anna Novak. Cas' sister.' 

'Is she single?' Jo asks, not caring if this is the longest hug they've ever had. She's got stuff she needs to find out first, and this is the only way she can think of doing it, without drawing too much attention. Though, by the way that she can feel nearly everyone's eyes on her, she knows that it isn't going _quite_ to plan. 

'Just broke up with her girlfriend, so she's probably on the rebound.' 

Jo chuckles, 'Lovely.' 

She pulls away from Dean, patting him on the shoulder. She nods her head to Cas in greeting before she turns around once more, walking back over to the bar, and in turn, Anna, with a wide grin on her lips. 

'What can I get you, gorgeous?' She calls out, and even Cas can hear the difference in Jo's voice; it's husky, seductive, and he turns to Dean with wide eyes. 

'Is your… is Jo trying to pick up my sister?' Cas questions, as he watches Jo slide a glass towards his sister, placing it into her hand and letting her fingers caress the edge of her hand. 

'Yeah.' Dean chuckles. 'Wanna get a table?' 

Cas nods his head, dumbfounded as he watches Anna reach across the bar and push a lock of Jo's hair behind her ear. He trails after Dean, a frown on his face as his gaze continues to flick back over to Anna and Jo, watching them flirt unashamedly, and it's only when he bumps into the seat and falls down on it, does his gaze return to Dean. 

'I don't believe it. I brought her here to catch up and meet you, and she's trying to get into Jo's pants.' 

Dean chuckles, opening his mouth to reply, but before he can even get another word out, the chuckle dies on his lips and the smile falls from his face. He stares at a space just over Cas' head, and with a frown on his face, Cas turns to see what's got Dean looking like he's just saw a ghost. 

Standing at the threshold of the door are two men. One looks to be in his late forties, with greying hair and a heavily lined face, and the other has dark skin, a cruel scowl upon his face as he surveys the room. He can understand why someone would give them a wide berth, but he doesn't understand why Dean's face fell like a painful flashback, and it isn't until he turns back to look at Dean, does he realise that there's something more between the three of them. 

'Winchester.' The greying man greets, his voice nasally and somehow still frightening enough to send chills down both Dean and Cas' backs. 

'Alastair, still running around with your recent pet?' Dean grins, but Cas can tell it's nothing but a fake smile, plastered on as a shield. 'How's life treating you, Gordon? Still beating up little kids?' 

Gordon ignores him, opting instead to plaster a fake smile on his face like Dean's, and question, 'Dean. Still taking a dick up your ass like a good little faggot?' 

'Watch your mouth.' Castiel growls, his hand balling into a fist as he fights back every urge to stand from his seat. There's something about being this low down that makes him feel a tad uncomfortable. There's no easy way to attack, and if anyone wins a fight in this situation, it's definitely not Cas. 

Both Alastair and Gordon just laugh. 

'This your newest boyfriend, Dean? I have to admit, he's a step up from your last one; dude looked like a _bear_. I thought you had better taste than that. Then again, I realised that my belief in you was misplaced when you ran away from me.' 

'Last time I checked, I wasn't yours in the first place, and everyone here knows that the reason you can't stand Benny is because of how much better a drummer than you he was.' Dean's lips stretch wider, twitching slightly in amusement. 'And he was ten million times hotter than you, too.' 

Something in Alastair's expression switches, but he doesn't get a chance to act on whatever is going through his head, when Gordon speaks again, his eyes no longer on Dean, but on Jo.

'How have you been, darling?' He grins at her, but Jo just sneers at him, not even bothering to answer him.

'Don't "darling" her, asshole.' Anna sneers, her eyes narrowing dangerously at the two men, and as Dean's eyes flick between her and Cas, he realises that there _are_ similarities between the two, unlike what he thought before. They're both brave, willing to fight, and both get lines in the corner of their eyes when they sneer, and they both ball their hands into fists when they're pissed, apparently. 

'Who the fuck are you?' 

'She's my sister.' Cas finally stands from his seat, and Dean half expects him to walk over to Anna and place himself in front of her, mainly because that's what he'd do if the situation were reversed and it was between him and Jo. But surprisingly, Anna moves over and stands with Cas, positioning herself just that bit in front of her younger brother. 

'And I'm the person who suggests you leave, before I stick a knife through your neck.' She quirks her lips into a smile, that is a threat and a challenge rolled into one.

'Oh, hon, why don't you leave this to the men. Don't want your pretty little head getting hurt now, do we?' Gordon grins, reaching out to wrap his finger around a strand of Anna's bright red hair. 

However, before he can do much else to her or even say anything else to her, Anna's hand comes up and grabs ahold of his hand, pulling it from her hair with a sharp tug, which in turn pulls several strands from her head but she doesn't even wince. 

Her grip tightens around his hand, then she tugs him down sharply, lifting her knee just in time so that his nose connects with the hard bone there. Blood smears her jeans but all she does is release Gordon with a thrust, sending him stumbling backwards and leaving Alastair to catch him with a grunt. 

'You little cunt.' Gordon sneers as he rubs the blood away from his face, even though more falls a second later and covers it once more. 

Dean can only sit back in shock as Cas' eyes narrow dangerously and he's crowding closer to Gordon. Gordon backs away from him, letting Alastair stand his ground for him instead, but Cas doesn't seem that concerned. He cocks his head to the side as he studies Alastair, a hint of a grin on his lips. 

'Cas, he's not worth it.' Dean declares leaning across the table, trying to distant his roommate, his friend. His voice seems to be enough to distract Cas for a moment, as his gaze turns away from Alastair and instead turns towards Dean. 

But before either Dean or Cas can say anything else, Alastair's hand is connecting with Cas' cheek, the ring he wears on his finger cutting into Cas' cheekbone and drawing blood. Cas lets out a hiss of pain as his hand flies up to cup his face in reaction. 

However, the second he turns back to meet Alastair's gaze, his hand moves from his cheek and he instead throws a punch at Alastair, catching him square on the jaw. He combines it with another punch to his gut, which makes the other man double over with a shaky exhale. 

Cas goes to hit him with another punch, but Alastair's hand catches his fist, and he shoves Castiel backwards. He loses his balance and falls to the ground, and Alastair follows him, his hands wrapping around the slender curve of Cas' neck and starts to _squeeze_. 

Dean's eyes widen in return at the sight of Alastair crowding over Cas, with his hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing the air out of his body and Dean can't seem to stop himself. He grabs the nearest thing to him, which just so happens to be the chair that Cas had previously been sitting on, and swings it hard. The leg connects with the side of Alastair's face with enough force that he falls off Cas' body with a loud grunt. 

Cas gasps for air and Dean dives down to his side, pulling him upright with a sharp tug. His arm snakes around his waist to hold him close, making sure he doesn't fall over again. Dean is just about to move forward again, to give Alastair and Gordon a piece of his mind, when a shot from a gun sounds in the room. 

Everyone goes still and one or two people let out shouts of fright. 

'That was a warning shot.' Ellen growls, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she surveys the room. 'You two better get out of my bar and stay away, otherwise I won't be aiming at the ceiling with an empty barrel.' 

For emphasis, Ellen brings the gun down and points it towards both Alastair and Gordon, and even though they look like they want to stay and fight, they start to back out of the bar, with only their eyes narrowed in warning. 

Ellen doesn't say anything for a long time, not as her eyes dart between the only four people in the bar. After a bit, she shakes her head and sets the gun down, before she turns and walks away from them, not even bothering to say a reprimanding word.

She realises that she made the right decision when they all burst out in laughter the second her back is turned. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean and Cas' chuckles reverberate in the hall of their block, before they stumble into their own apartment after they manage to finally slide the door open. 

'I can't believe you actually got into a fight. I never pegged you for the type.' Dean chuckles, his arm wrapped firmly around Cas' shoulder, steering them both into the apartment and settling them on to the couch. 'But seriously, this has just convinced me to never underestimate the nerdy guys.' 

'I'm from a long line of soldiers. I was raised to be one. That was before we came into money. Anna and I, we were the best out of the others, if I'm being honest. But I think that's because we has so much anger and rebellion in us, and it was the only way to let it out.' 

Dean lets out another hearty chuckle, throwing his head back as he does so. He squeezes his eyes shut and clings on to his sides, which are starting to hurt from lack of air. 

Somehow, his arm finds itself around Cas' shoulder once more, or he could simply have never removed it from that position in the first place. 

'Seriously Cas, you are _awesome_.' He declares through his chuckles, his hand squeezing the side of Cas' shoulder where it rests. 

Cas turns his head towards Dean, his blue gaze meeting Dean's green one before he gives him a smile, a small tug at the corner of his lips, which may seem like nothing but Dean somehow understands the amount of meaning that's behind that little twitch. He knows just how much that statement meant to Cas; knows that he hasn't been this readily accepted before and it warms his heart. 

He squeezing Cas' shoulder once more, before giving it a pat and pulling his arm free from around Cas' shoulders. 

'I'm going to turn in, Cas, talk to you tomorrow.' Dean declares, but before he moves, his hand finds Cas once more. He entwines his fingers through the gaps in Cas' hand, his thumb trailing over the back of his hand before he even realises it. 

When it occurs to him what he's doing, his gaze snaps to Cas' once more, an apology bubbling on his lips because he expects to see some anger or annoyance in Cas' eyes, but he doesn't. Instead, he finds a warmth, a softness that echoes so perfectly with the slight upturn at the corner of his lips, and Dean's stomach _flips_. 

'I think… I think I will too.' Cas whispers in return, even though he makes no effort to move, nor does his eyes leave Dean's gaze. Dean nods his head once before his tongue darts out to moisten his lips, which only draws Castiel's gaze away from his and down towards his lips. 

Cas swallows hard in return, and before he even realises it, he's leaning forward, moving closer and closer towards Dean. Their foreheads bump into each other, but none of that matters, not even the short, sharp sting of pain that shoots through them. Their noses brush against each other once, twice, three times before they both tilt their heads and let their lips meet. 

It's only the briefest of kisses, a light brush of lips against the others, but it sends fire through both Cas and Dean's veins, and when they part, they both feel rather lightheaded. 

'I'm going to bed now.' Dean whispers and after Cas nods his head, he finally lets out a shaky exhale and stands from his seat. Cas stands only a moment later and after the briefest moment of hesitation, they both let out a chuckle and turn to go to their room. 

As soon as Dean enters his room, he's greeted by the mess that he left early that day, but with the smile on his face, and the fact his head still feels as dizzy as hell from that kiss, he decides to walk away from the mess that lies on his floor and falls onto his bed. 

His eyes study the mess that covers his floor, but he doesn't feel the urge to pick it up and put it away; he doesn't feel the urge to look after it as if it's the only lifeline he has. Even when his eyes find an early poster from Dean and Benny's band _Purgatory_ , he doesn't want to flatten it out and hide it. 

Instead, he just rolls on to his side and lets the warmth that's still searing in his veins to lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	5. A Kiss with a Fist

The crowd that surrounds him is the biggest he's had in a long time, and he doesn't really understand why. He's just playing the same music he's always played. He's not really sure what's changed; maybe it's just the people in New York that's changed, finally realising that he's been playing on the same street since he got here. 

What's even stranger is the fact that he sees Cas standing in the crowd, a tiny smirk on his face as he listens to Dean play the intro to one of his songs. He knows it sounds weird without the drums from Benny, but the crowd still stay and those that go always put money in his guitar case that sits open in front of him. 

His eyes meet Castiel's and he knows that he hasn't been standing there the whole time, Dean is pretty damn certain that he would have noticed Cas if he was standing there all this time. No. Chances are he's just stumbled across Dean on the street… maybe he was heading back to the apartment, this was usually the quickest street to take if he wanted to go back to their home. 

But apparently, after noticing Dean playing, he needs to stop and listen. 

Dean gives him a soft smile, but when Cas returns it with a small wave, he finds his own falling off a moment later. That look, that little wave of hello is far too familiar. In fact, Dean finds himself thinking of one night, back when Benny was still alive and Dean had distanced himself from him because of the drugs. They had just finished playing a set in a bar when Benny just abandoned Dean to pack away all their shit, so that he could go and meet up with his drug buddy - his drug buddy that he now knows is Cas' friend or ex or whatever this Meg was to him. 

But this night was different, Dean can remember that, because it wasn't just Meg that he went and met. It was some other dude. Some other dude who had messy black hair and was dressed in some dodgy looking trench coat. Some other dude that simply smiled at Benny and raised his hand in a small wave. 

Some other dude that was very clearly Castiel. 

But Cas… what reason did Cas have for meeting up with Meg and Benny? Especially when Dean can remember him leaving only five minutes later. It's not like Cas is an addict like Meg and Benny; it's not like he stayed so he had someone to shoot up with. He just stayed long enough for greetings and then left…

Dean misses a beat in his playing, but thankfully the crowd doesn't seem to notice and so he just picks it up, continuing to play as if there wasn't a war raging inside his head. 

Maybe Cas wasn't a junkie like Meg and Benny, but maybe he was their _dealer_. That's why he didn't stay long - he only stayed long enough to make an exchange and then disappeared, obviously to go back to whatever sad, pathetic corner he sold at. 

It would explain everything - why Cas could just afford to pay six grand towards Dean's flat, why it wasn't necessarily "his bank account" that the money was in. He's got to get it from somewhere, and maybe that's who he was planning on stealing the money from; maybe that's why he offered to go through all the trouble of getting it. Maybe he knew who Dean was before they first met and wanted to make it up to him, wanted to apologise for being the cause of death for his beset friend. 

Dean can no longer moves his fingers; can no longer continue playing the song, and the silence hangs heavily in the air, as if he had just declared himself an alien from Mars. Everyone stares at him, eyes focused on his almost broken expression as he stares at only one spot - the spot above Castiel's head.

It's not clear to the people who have been watching and listening to him if he's staring at anyone in particular, or if he's just staring into space, lost in thought or revelation, but it's clear to both Dean and Castiel. 

Cas swallows hard as he forces himself through the crowd, moving closer and closer to his roommate, to the man he considers his best friend. 

As soon as he reaches him, finally breaking through the barrier of people that surround Dean, he places his hands on Dean's shoulders, giving him a firm shake and bringing him from his mind and back to the present. 

'Dean?! Are you okay?' He questions, even though he knows the answer just by looking at him. No. He is most definitely not okay, and judging by how _pale_ his damn face is, it's going to be a while before he feels better. A simple shake of the shoulders isn't going to clear his head. 

When Dean's eyes finally focus, clashing with the unmistakable blue eyes of Cas', something overcomes him, and before he even realises it, Dean's hand is balling into a fist, pulling back and then connecting with the soft flesh of Castiel's nose. 

Between the cry of agony from Cas, the gasps of shock from the crowd and the feel of blood splattering over his fist, Dean finally comes to his senses and finds Cas doubled over in front of him, fingers pinching the bridge of his bleeding noise, trying to stop the red blood that is oozing from his nostrils. 

'Fuck. Shit. Cas, I'm so sorry.' He gushes, moving forward to grab ahold of Cas and support him. Cas tries to shake his head, either telling Dean that he can stand on his own or he doesn't need to be sorry, or maybe even a mixture or both. But Dean doesn't really take heed either of the hidden messages in his action, and merely uses one hand to support Cas, and then uses the other to lean down and lift the guitar case with all the money that people had thrown in over the time he had been playing. 

They aren't that far from their apartment and it only takes ten minutes before Dean is throwing the guitar case on the floor, letting the coins and notes scatter across the wood as it spills open, seeing as he didn't really have the time to actually fasten the case securely. 

Cas makes a sound of protest to this but Dean opts to ignore him, instead focusing on setting him on the couch. He then pulls Baby off his shoulder, throwing her carelessly onto the sofa beside Cas, an action that shocks the injured man and makes his eyes widen. Dean ignores that too. 

Dean rushes towards the bathroom, running the warm water for a minute or two so it can heat up, and as it does, he runs back through to the kitchen to get a small basin to put the water in. Once the basin is full of lukewarm water, he heads back out to the living room where Cas is still sitting, snatching two towels from the hamper as he does so. 

He settles down next to him, dipping the towel into the water, wringing out the excess liquid before he gently dabs it to the side of Cas' nose. His friend hisses in pain but he does't pull away from the touch, so Dean takes that as a good sign, reckoning that the pain can't be that sore, otherwise he would have pulled away. 

Dean continues to clean up Cas' nose, clearing his face of the blood and thankfully easing some of the pain. 

'I'm sorry, Cas.' He whispers once he's finished, but before he can lower the towel, Cas grabs ahold of his hand and tugs it free from his grasp. He holds Dean's hand in his, making sure he has his roommates gaze as he dips the towel into the water, before clearing the dry blood that's scattered across Dean's knuckles. 

'I've been expecting you to make the connection for a while, if I'm honest.' Cas answers in reply, his voice an equally soft whisper. 

'Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that.' 

'I know why you did though.' 

'So… you _are_ ,' Dean corrects himself, 'were, Benny and Meg's drug dealer?' 

' _What_?' Cas exclaims, head flying upwards to meet Dean's gaze, which suddenly looks pretty apologetic all of a sudden. 'No! I've never went near the stuff. But I was the one that introduced Meg and Benny in a way. I had always enjoyed Purgatory; the first time I heard you play, I was sitting in a bar, nursing a glass of Jack, trying to get over my block when you started playing. It helped me make sense of my story and helped me push myself towards the finish. 

'Meg was… we weren't exactly _dating_. We had a strong relationship, we loved each other, just not in _that_ way, but the sex was _amazing_ , so it was what it was. But we still saw other people. Well, she did, I never found anyone that I was close enough to. One night, she wanted to know where I kept disappearing to and so I brought her along, on the strict understanding that she didn't interrupt me whilst I was writing. I don't know why I bothered making that threat. As soon as she saw Benny, she never looked my way the rest of the night.' 

The blood on Dean's knuckles has disappeared, but Castiel still finds himself stroking the towel across Dean's fist, eyes focusing on the skin that's surprisingly speckled with freckles - though it doesn't have as many as his face does. 

'I was surprised when I turned up and saw it was you that was letting the apartment. Meg and I shared one, but when she died, I couldn't afford it and was thrown out. I didn't want to go back to my family, so I moved to a hostel until I saw your flyer. I was actually surprised when you didn't recognise my name; Meg told me that she kept telling Benny about the things we used to do. I expected him to pass it onto you.'

Dean scoffs a little, pulling the towel free from Cas' grasp and setting it on the floor. He doesn't remove his hand from under Cas' hold, however, he lets it stay there, finding comfort in the warmth that seeps through his skin at where they're joined. 

'Benny didn't tell me much. What you said about you and Meg, that's what Benny and I had. Sex sometimes, a love and drive to make it as a band. We lived together, but after he got into the drugs and I wouldn't go down that path with him, he just… pushed me away.' Dean sighs, shaking his head and finds his hand clenching around Cas'. 'Well, I pushed him away. I told him I couldn't deal with that and told him to forget about me outside of the band.' 

Dean trails off, letting the silence hang around them both as they stare at each other, long and hard, seemingly continuing the conversation with looks alone. Dean doesn't know what is happening, but he finds he can't stop himself from leaning in, moving closer and closer to Cas until their foreheads are touching and their noses are nuzzling against each other's. 

'I shouldn't have punched you.' Dean whispers against Cas' skin, when Cas sucks in a shuddering breath of pain from the contact. He doesn't stop brushing his nose against Dean's though, eyes slowly falling closed as he tilts his head, angling it so his lips are just a breath away from Dean's. 

'I know how you can make it up to me,' whispers Cas in reply, eyes flickering between Dean's gorgeous, plump lips and his gorgeous, green eyes. His lips pull into a teasing, almost challenging grin, waiting to see whether he'll take the hint or what, and judging from the glint that appears in Dean's eyes, as if he had just been handed the key to the candy store, Cas realises he understood the hint in its entirety. 

Dean doesn't breath another word as his eyes finally close and he tilts his head just so, pressing their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss. 

Cas' eyelids flutter a moment after the first feel of Dean's lips against his, and his hand moves so that it can entwine itself in Dean's blond hair, scratching his blunt nails against the sensitive skin of Dean's scalp. Their lips rest against each other's for a beat, before Cas takes control and lets his lips move, coaxing Dean's into doing the same. 

Dean's hand comes up and cups the back of Cas' neck, pulling him closer just as he pushes his tongue inside Cas' mouth. 

Cas shudders, his hands tightening in Dean's blond hair as he moves with Dean's guidance. He no longer sits on the couch beside him, instead manoeuvring himself so he's straddling Dean, knees pressing into springs that stick out of their dingy sofa. 

Cas pulls back for a moment, using the new height difference to finally look down on Dean, taking in the sight of those gorgeous emerald eyes, that are hooded and clouded with lust. He reaches up with his finger and presses his middle one against Dean's lips, smirking at how they're spit-slicked, plump and even more pink than usual. 

'You have no idea how long I've wanted this.' Cas whispers softly, finger moving over Dean's lower lip, tugging it down just a little, so he could see inside his mouth. 

'No, believe me, I have a pretty good idea.' Dean murmurs in reply, before he uses the hand that's still resting on Cas' neck as leverage, pulling him down so he can press his lips to Cas' again. 

Their lips move in perfect unison, and even though Dean's nose accidentally bumps Castiel's once or twice, sending a jolt of pain through the other, Cas just shakes it off and returns to kissing Dean. 

It's after the third time that Dean's bumped his nose and Cas has just shrugged it off, does Dean's hand move from his neck to his thighs, gripping onto the hard muscle that's clad in jeans as he pulls himself to a standing position. 

Cas' lips dislodge from Dean's with a soft shout, his arms wrapping around Dean's neck to steady himself and when he realises just what Dean is doing, where he is heading, he grins and presses his lips to the side of Dean's neck. 

He doesn't stop until Dean places him on the bed and he has to unwind himself from around Dean so he can move back onto the bed. Dean follows him a second later, crowding over him with the briefest look of wonder on his face. 

'How're we doing this?' Dean murmurs as he runs his hand up Cas' stomach, pulling the shirt with him as he does so. He bundles the shirt around Cas' armpits as his hand dips down to the top of his jeans, trailing over gorgeous hipbones that Dean is extremely tempted to lean down and _lick_. 

Dean pops the first button of Cas' jeans when he murmurs, 'Your dick.' 

He leans up and tugs Cas' shirt over his head, letting him flop back down onto the bed with a breathless gasp. He goes to unbutton another one when Cas' hand flies out and grasps his wrist, stopping him in his movements. 

'My ass.' He declares before he uses whatever leverage he has and flips Dean over onto his back, smirking when he notices the appreciative look in Dean's eyes, as if being handled like this is the biggest turn on for him. 'But I'm taking control.' 

Before Dean has a chance to say anything about that, Cas is pulling Dean's shirt over his head and popping all the buttons on his jeans. He shimmies off the bed so he can tug the jeans off of Dean's legs, and when he's completely bare, lying on the bed just waiting for him, Castiel finally slips out of his own jeans. 

'I'm guessing you've got lube or _something_ hiding about here.' Cas says as he slides onto the bed, crawling over Dean's body and pressing his lips to the base of his throat is a soft, gentle kiss. 

He feels Dean swallow hard beneath his lips, and feels the vibrations against his tongue when he says, 'In the spare pillow's cover.' 

Cas doesn't say anything about that, thank god, but he does just give Dean a teasing smirk as he reaches out with his free hand that isn't currently mapping out Dean's body, and reaches into the cover of his spare pillow. His hands wrap around a small, plastic bottle and when he finally pulls it free, he's sees that it's half-empty. 

'How come I didn't hear this?' Cas questions as he flips the cap open, squirting out some onto his fingers but he doesn't get far with them. Dean's hand comes up to wipe the lube off, taking it onto his fingers instead and then squirts some more onto his hand when he pulls the bottle free from Cas' grasp. 

'I can be quiet.' Dean says, just as he gently pushes one lubed finger inside of Cas, earning a soft moan from him as he does so. 

'You better, ah,' Cas hips buck when Dean slides another finger inside of him, the burn on the pleasurable side as he does so, 'scream tonight.' 

'I have every intentions of screaming tonight; just s'long you do as well.' Dean declares as he thrusts both of his fingers in and out of Cas' hole, scissoring them and twisting them, making sure Cas is stretched enough for the third finger that he presses in a moment later. 

'You're not the first dick I've had in me, Dean.' Cas breathes, hips grinding down against Dean's hand as he desperately tries to get him deeper. The position that they're in doesn't allow Dean to get his fingers as deep as either of them wish, so when Cas whines in annoyance, Dean finally relents. 

He pulls his fingers free from Cas' hole, putting more lube on his fingers so he can slick his cock up. He's _just_ got it covered in some lubrication when Cas pushes his hand out of the way, taking Dean's cock in his hand before he slowly sinks down onto him.

They moan in unison, Dean from being inside someone, encased in warm, tight heat, and Cas from being stretched full from Dean's cock. They both bask in the moment for a minute or two, before Cas finally has enough and needs _more_. He starts to move, lifting his hips so that Dean slips nearly all the way out, before sinking back down, circling his hips so that Dean's cock rubs against his prostate every time he does so. 

He goes slow at first, setting a pace that has both of them moaning like mad, both of them wanting more but enjoying the feel of everything building; of the tension in their stomach that bubbles and clenches every time Cas slides back down; of the sweet, slick sound that they make as Dean starts to meet Cas, thrust for every lovely thrust. 

Sweat decorates their body after time, and it takes only a beat before Dean sits up, cradling his arms around Cas' back so he can finally press his lips to Cas' once more. One hand moves from Cas' back a moment later, however, so that he can wrap it around Cas' cock. The pleasure that shoots through Cas' body as Dean's thumb rubs over the head, spreading the precome over his pink cock, causes his hips to jerk and for him to lose his pace. 

After that, there is no rhythm to their movements; the time for building pressure and fighting back the swelling urge is gone, and they are just desperately trying to go flying off the edge now. 

Dean's thrusts become erratic, no longer an even match for Cas', but somehow it still works and it isn't long before Cas' thrusts stop altogether, Dean's thumb rubbing over the slit on his cock at just the right time, which causes him to explode. He comes over Dean's hand, painting both his and Dean's chest in sticky white as he jerks through the tremors, Dean rubbing soothing circles as he supports him through it.

After that, the feeling of Cas clenching around him, the feeling of his come cover them both, pushes Dean over the edge and he falls back onto the bed with a load moan. Cas doesn't have the energy or strength to support himself, so he flops on top of Dean a moment later. 

'That was fucking awesome.' Cas whispers when finds he can actually speak again, even if it is mostly to Dean's chest, as he still can't find the strength to lift his head to look Dean in the eye. 

'You can say that again.' Dean says in return, before he finds he has to stifle a yawn. He stretches himself out as much as he can, even with Cas' weight on him. 'You're not going to move, are you?' 

Cas just shakes his head in reply, which leads to Dean giving a chuckle as he wraps his arms around Cas' middle holding him close as they both continue to lie and talk, until they both drift off to sleep, three hours later.

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Castiel is the first to wake, and when he turns his head to find Dean still fast asleep, he feels a smile tug at his lips. They sting as he smiles, the faint pull of his cut lip reminding him of what happened to lead up to their night together. He had remembered Dean the second he saw him; remembered seeing him onstage with Benny whenever Meg dragged him along to one of their concerts.

They had never talked. Cas normally took off once the set was over, and Meg left him to go and see Benny. He had thought about following her once, to introduce himself but then he remembered just what Meg and him would disappear and do, and he wasn't going to take part in that. He didn't want to see Meg do that, let alone do it himself. 

He reaches out and gently strokes the back of his hand down Dean's cheek. Dean sighs, the warmth of his breath fanning over Cas' hand and he shifts. Cas draws his hand back, deciding that he didn't want to wake Dean. He looks like he needs the sleep, the way he curls himself against the covers and buries his face in the sheets in an attempt to drown out the world.

Cas rolls out of bed, moving as quietly and slowly as possible so he doesn't wake Dean. He pads through to his room, finding it weird how it _isn't_ weird that he didn't sleep there last night. Everything feels so normal and he doesn't know how he feels about that. 

He goes into his drawer, pulling out the A4 sketch pad that he keeps there, before he lifts the charcoal he uses most of the time. He takes a deep breath, trying to decide whether or not it's a good idea, before he decides that this is who he is. And this is what he does.

So, with that in his mind, he tucks everything under his arm and then pads back through to Dean and his room. He's still lying in bed, still fast asleep, but he's shifted into the space that Cas had previously occupied, arm slung carelessly over the pillow as if missing the company of Castiel's body. The covers have fallen down during his move and just manages to cover what lies below his waist. 

Castiel is a little annoyed they couldn't have slipped lower. 

Cas pulls his boxers from the pile of clothes that are strewn around the room, and tugs them on before sitting down on the stool that Dean uses when he practices his guitar. He flips the sketch pad open, flicking through the images he has already drawn of Dean, hasty pencil sketches of him as he plays his guitar, thinking Cas is merely planning another part of his novel. 

When he lands on a blank page, that doesn't contain the sneaky sketches of Dean, or the old ones he did of Meg, he returns his gaze back to Dean and starts sketching him. 

He's not sure how much time passes, but Dean's body is roughly sketched and he's just beginning to add the shading to the covers that are draped over his waist, having spent too much time scattering the freckles over his stomach, when he hears Dean groan.

'Cas?' He murmurs, and when Cas lifts his eyes, he finds Dean's green eyes fluttering, locking on him and when he sees the notepad that rests on his legs, he frowns. 'What you doing?' 

Cas is silent for a moment, looking down to the sketch which is nowhere near competition. He's still got to shade Dean's face and his chest. He can either show it to him like this, which would disturb the pose he's in and wouldn't be able to get back into, or he could just order Dean to stay still, and hope he's too tired to protest. 

'Lie still for another thirty minutes or so, and I'll show you.' Cas declares, before he lowers his gaze to his drawing and continues to sketch the covers. Dean mumbles something, but he doesn't say anything else, and Cas doesn't hear him move, so he assumes that Dean's decided to follow his instructions, which is confirmed when he lifts his head a moment later for reference. 

Dean's eyes have fallen closed once more, but Cas knows he's not asleep; knows by the uneven rise and fall of his chest that he's feigning it. 

'So you're sketching me?' Dean questions after a moment, and Cas is thankful that his face is already finished, because he choses that moment to open his eyes and turn his head to look at him. 'That's kinda creepy dude.' 

Cas' hand stops moving the charcoal over the page almost immediately, and he takes in a deep breath at Dean's words. He swallows hard and is about to put the paper and charcoal down when Dean starts talking again. 

'I'm joking, Cas.' Dean declares and if Cas hadn't told him to stay still, he'd have moved to comfort him and really show him that he was joking.  

'Are you sure? If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop-'

'Cas, really, it's fine. Trust me. Hurry up and finish so that I can see it and give you a kiss.' Dean mutters. 'I've been craving one since I woke up.' 

Cas feels a grin appear on his lips, despite his earlier words, and when he meets Dean's gaze, and sees Dean give him a small, reassuring nod, he continues to sketch him. 

It doesn't take long for him to finish it off, and when he does, he sets the charcoal down, grimacing at the black that covers his fingertips. He lifts the pad up and walks over, sliding into the bed beside Dean, who finally sighs at being able to sit up, cracking his back as he stretches. 

He takes the pad when Cas offers it to him, and once his eyes land on the drawing, he feels as if all the air has been knocked out of his lungs. 

'Jesus fuck, Cas.' He states breathlessly, reaching out to gingerly trace his hand over the paper, mindful of the charcoal so he doesn't smudge it and ruin it. 'This is _awesome_.' 

'You…' he clears his throat. 'You think so?' 

'Yeah, babe, that's… it's fucking amazing! Where'd you learn to draw like that?' 

Cas smiles softly, and not just because Dean found it so easy to slip the word "babe" into that sentence. He reaches out to place his hand on top of Dean's. 

'Whenever I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do with a story, or what direction to take, I'd pull out my drawing pad and just _draw_. Now, whenever I'm stuck or inspired, it's what I do. So, just… practice I suppose.' 

'So, when you're stuck, you draw?' 

Cas nods and Dean lets out a chuckle, wrapping his arm around Cas' shoulders and pulling him in for a slow kiss. 

When they break away, Dean grins against his lips and murmurs, 'Wanna see what I do?' 

'I already know what you do, Dean.' Cas mumbles as Dean moves away from him, sprawling himself over the bed in order to get to his bedside cabinet. He pulls the drawer open and pulls out a small tin, turning back to Cas with a grin on his lips. 

'Humour me.' Dean shrugs as he flips the lid open. He pulls the papers out and hands them to Cas, who takes ahold of them, pulling out two and handing them to Dean. 

When he hears Dean chuckle, he turns his gaze back to him and watches as Dean only takes one paper from his grasp.

'You've had you relaxing session, Cas. My turn now.' He explains as he pulls the clear bag from the tin, pulling out some of the green substance. He moves it closer to his face for a better look, as he starts to loosen the clump, stopping every once in a while to pull the odd seed out. 

Once he's got enough loose and free from anything that shouldn't be there, he places it on the paper, spreading it out evenly on the crease. His eyes meet Cas and he grins at him when he finds his gaze fixed entirely on his fingers, which are wrapping around the paper to roll the weed into a better shape; rolling the paper around it so it's secure. 

He makes sure he has Cas' gaze entirely when he raises the paper to his lips, his tongue darting out to moisten the seal, and he can't help but chuckle at the way Cas' face reddens at the movement. 

Dean rolls the joint once, securing the seal to the paper and after patting it to make sure it's secure, he raises it to his mouth and holds it between his lips. He fishes his matches out of his pocket, but before he can even get one out of the book, Cas is stealing them from his grasp and lighting one for him. 

He leans forward when Cas extends the light towards him, and can't help but smirk as Cas licks his lips, his gaze firmly on Dean's that are still wrapped around the joint. 

As soon as it's alight, he takes a long drag, letting the smoke fall heavy on his tongue as he pulls it away from his lips. 

Before he knows what he's doing, he's grabbing the back of Cas' neck and tugging him forward, smashing their lips together and when he can, he parts Cas' mouth with his tongue and breathes the smoke into his mouth, before pulling away. 

Cas doesn't cough, and as Dean focuses his gaze on him, as he blows the smoke out through his mouth, he notices that the bastard looks smug; as if he had been expecting Dean to do that all along. 

'You knew I was gonna do that, didn't you?' Dean enquires as he passes the joint to Cas then, watching as he takes a drag and lets the smoke out with a chuckle after holding it in for a moment. 

''Course I did. I can read you like a book.' Cas retorts, handing the joint back to Dean with a grin on his lips. 'And you're going to do it again.' 

'Am I?' Dean questions, stopping his hand midway in the air, waiting to see where Cas is planning on going with this. 

'Yes.' Cas declares. 'We're going to finish the joint like that, then you're going to fuck me until we're both as high as we can possibly go… sound good?' 

Dean lets out a chuckle, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling with how wide his smile ends up. 

'Sounds perfect.' Dean replies, before he takes another draw and firmly seals his lips against Cas'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	6. Don't Own Emotion; Rent It

Cas' head is on Dean's lap, his book held just over his face so he can read it. It's kept low enough that it doesn't get in the way of Dean, who has a notepad resting on Cas' stomach. He thrums his pen against the pad. Cas frowns at him, moving the book away so he can study his boyfriend's face.  ****

His blue eyes trail over Dean's features. He notices the deep lines that are etched on his forehead. His lips pursed just slightly. 

'What's wrong?' Cas questions as he reaches up to cup Dean's cheek. He watches with a soft smile on his face as the lines on Dean's face disappear. They're smoothed away with the touch of his fingers.

Dean shakes his head, setting the pencil down. It immediately rolls off Cas' body and lands on the floor with a clatter. He doesn't bother to try and catch it, opting instead to let it fall over. After all, he knows he has no intention of using it again - not now anyway. 

'I just,' he sighs, running a hand through his hair before he lets it fall onto Cas' body. 'D'you ever get that feeling that everything is going _so fucking_ perfectly? And you just know that something is going to come along and fuck it all up?' 

'Ah, the eternal pessimist.' Cas chuckles, before he pulls himself upright and swings his leg over Dean's lap. He moves, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck, and presses his forehead to Dean's. 'What's made you think this?' 

'It's just that things with the _Roadhouse_ are going good. I'm getting a load of shifts and it's helping us catch up on rent. You and I are together and have been for three months. Not to mention I'm actually starting to write music again -' 

'A song that you haven't let me hear yet.' Cas cuts him off, pecking Dean's lips after he's finished teasing him. 

'It's a surprise.' Dean retorts, before he continues with his previous point. 'I'm just waiting for something to go wrong. I mean everything has been going _so_ _right_ for the past few months. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop.'

Cas runs a soothing hand through Dean's hair. He smiles to himself when Dean's eyes flutter. His head tilts backwards, leaning in to Castiel's touch. Cas does it again, knowing just how much Dean enjoys it when he strokes and pets his hair like this.

'There isn't another shoe, Dean, and it's not going to drop. You and I have been through so much shit, we deserve this.' Cas whispers before he presses his lips to Dean's. He lets his eyes close as he keeps scratching his blunt nails against Dean's scalp. He knows that he loves it so. 

'Maybe,' Dean declares when he pulls his lips free from Cas'. 'But something tells me Fate doesn't see things that way.'

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean is breathless when he bursts into the room, and his eyes scan around him. He looks for Cas who runs out of their room the second he hears the door bang against the wall. 

His eyes take in his friend's dishevelled appearance. His hair sticks up every-which-way, and there's pure and utter panic in his gaze. 

'Dean!' He runs over to him, cupping his face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over his freckle-spattered cheekbones. 'What's wrong, babe? Dean, talk to me!' 

' _The_ _Roadhouse_.' Dean gasps, but doesn't expand, and Cas' hands move from his face to his shoulders. He grabs ahold of them tight, giving his boyfriend a sharp shake, trying to get him to focus. 

'Dean! What about _The_ _Roadhouse_?' Cas prompts. 

Dean's takes a deep breath in, the noise the only sound that fills the apartment. Beneath his grasp, Cas can feel Dean shaking furiously. 

Instead of shaking him again, he just starts to massage his shoulders. He doesn't know if he's trying to stop him from shaking. He could just be trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. He just knows that he's trying to soothe him in some way. 

'It's been burnt down, Cas!' Dean exclaims and he can't seem to hold himself up anymore. He falls forward onto Cas, and Cas manages to catch him. He readjusts their position so he can help walk Dean over to the couch. He sets Dean down on the lumpy sofa, before he dashes off towards the kitchen and grabs a glass. He fills it with water then moves back over to Dean, handing him the water. 

He doesn't even try to force a smile on his face when Dean's eyes finally meet his. 

'What happened?' Cas asks, trying to swallow down the lump that appears in his throat. It doesn't disappear, though, and all he can do is reach out and grab Dean's hand. He knows he just needs to try and support his friend as best as he can. 

'I'm not sure,' Dean's throat clogs up, and he can't continue. He takes a sip of the water Cas had given him, turning the liquid over in his mouth before he swallows. 'I just went to start my shift and it's all charred and _black,_ and I didn't think twice. I went inside, I don't know what I was looking for but I didn't find anything. I don't even know where Jo or Ellen are; whether they were inside or managed to get out in time. Christ, for all I know they could be _dead,_ Cas.' 

'Don't think like that, Dean.' Cas whispers as he reaches out and runs his hand through his hair. He scratches at Dean's scalp with his nails, before he pulls back. 'We'll go to Beth Israel once you've calmed down and see if they're there. That's where anyone would take them for a quick check up and that.' 

Dean nods his head once, twice, before he downs the remaining of his water. He stands a moment later, moving so fast that it makes him just a little bit dizzy. 

'C'mon, Cas, I need to find them. I need to know they're okay!' 

Cas wants to tell him he shouldn't go just yet, but knows better. He knows Dean has to know that his family are okay. Cas would need to make sure his family were safe. Even when he hasn't seen them in so long.

He nods his head instead, standing from his seat to follow Dean's movements. He extends his hand, offering it to Dean in a sign of either comfort and support. Maybe a bit of both. After the briefest of moments, Dean slides his fingers through Cas'. It's just like all those times before. But this time, it's a different in a way.

His reason for touching Cas most of the time is just to feel his skin. It's just to confirm his thoughts that he hasn't made this thing up or was dreaming. But as Cas' thumb rubs soothing circles on his skin, he realises what it means. He knows now that Cas is willing to comfort him through this grief. 

He doesn't have a fucking clue whether Jo or Ellen are going to be alive and well. He's willing to help Dean cope with whatever he's going to find out. Whether that's relief or heartache. And he shows Dean that when he takes his hand.

Cas is willing to stay with him, no matter what. 

Dean squeezes his hand in return. He can't say those words back. He knows that no gesture he does will ever show Cas that he feels the same. 

But maybe, overtime, Cas will start to learn. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Both Jo and Ellen had survived the fire. They had no idea who had set it, but Dean nor Cas cared about that. They were just thankful that their family were safe. Sure, they received a few minor burns, and they had lost their home and livelihood. 

But they were _alive_.

Dean tried to offer the spare room that used to be Cas'. Which it technically still is as he still likes going there to write. It's also where most of his drawings and drafts are still littered. Ellen just shook her head, though, and told him that she had family in the city. She didn't want to crowd in with them, and much to his surprise, neither did Jo. 

What even surprised both Dean and Cas as well was when Cas' sister, Anna, turned up. She pulled Jo into an embrace. She ended up thanking everyone that was near for looking after Jo.

'I don't care what their insurance says they can afford. You give them what the need and I'll deal with it.' She had declared to the doctor when he came to do checkups. Jo had started to protest, but after a stern glare from Anna, she spoke no more protests.

Ellen had reached out and grabbed Anna's hand in thanks. It was a strange moment to witness, but Dean was glad he did. 

Dean does find out from Cas later on that Jo asked him to think of a way to pay Anna back. 

Two weeks had passed since that moment. Dean had no luck finding work to replace his shift at the _Roadhouse_. Cas and Dean both knew that they're screwed if nothing came along. The only thing that Cas had going for him was his short stories. Which _sometimes_ made a tiny income. It was Dean who earned enough to help them scrape together the rent at the end of the month. 

Cas had tried to talk Dean into using some of his family's money. As soon as the words were out of Cas' mouth, though, Dean had growled "no" and put an end to it. Cas knew better than to bring it up again. 

The end of the month comes along without any problems. It doesn't even bring Crowley to their doorstep, shouting for his money. Both Cas and Dean start to think that maybe the gods are finally favouring them. That feeling disappeared later that night. When an insistent knocking at the door stirred them from their sleep. 

Dean is the first to move. He throws the covers away from his person and slips out of bed. Cas follows him a short moment later. He catches up with him as they slowly walk towards the door. Their bare feet silent on the wooden floor. 

'Fucking _hell_ , we're coming!' Dean calls just as he reaches the door. When he does, he grasps ahold of the handle and slides the door open. His face falls immediately when he's greeted by the smug, smiling face of Crowley. 'What do you want?' 

'My rent.' He answers shortly, his voice deeper than normal. Dean can't help but wonder if he's holding back the urge to grin like the Cheshire Cat. 

'Jesus, Crowley, we don't fucking have it. _The Roadhouse_ burnt down, and we've kinda been in a rut.' Dean snaps voice laced with venom. Castiel's almost tempted to take a step backwards. To move away from him just incase he explodes.

'That's not my problem. Either make the rent or get out.' 

Crowley goes to turn away, but Dean's eyes narrow dangerously. He reaches out and grabs his stupid, expensive coat and hauls him backwards. He turns him around and grabs ahold of his lapels. Dean's face is nothing more than a sneer when he meets Crowley's gaze. This time Dean's certain trying to hold back laughter. 

'What're you going to do, Squirrel?' He cocks his head to the side, almost as if challenging Dean. It's as if he's tempting him to throw the first punch. It's then that Dean realises just what that would do. A punch would be an act of violence. The police would get involved. Or someone worse, like one of Crowley's minions. It would be all over for Dean and Castiel if that had to happen. 

With a growl, Dean releases Crowley with a shove, pushing him away from his person. Cas can tell just how annoyed he is when Crowley stumbles and nearly falls on his ass. Dean's lips don't even twitch.

Instead, he just turns on his heel and marches back into the apartment. All Cas can do is follow him and hold on for dear life as Dean presses his lips against his. He lets Dean lead them to their bedroom. He welcomes Dean as he sinks into him as the sets up a fast, harsh pace. One that allows them to release all their tension and anger. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Castiel rolls over, only to find the other side of the bed completely empty. His hands search the bed, looking for any sign of Dean, but he finds none. The sheets are cooling, still warm enough to tell Castiel that he's not been out of bed long.

'Dean?' He calls out, looking for any sign of his boyfriend, but he doesn't get a reply. 

A frown eats at his face and he forces his eyes open. He pushes himself up and supports himself on one hand. He uses the other to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

He tries to ignore the weight that has settled in his stomach. It was like he had swallowed a tonne of iron that was weighing him down in an ocean. He shakes his head. It's not like Dean is going to run out of the apartment he has fought so hard to keep. 

'Dean?' He tries again but there is no reply, but this time he hears it. He hears the distinctive sound of someone retching and his eyes widen. He throws the covers away from his body and hurtles out of bed. He rushes through to the bathroom where he stops short at the threshold. 

'Dean?' Cas chokes out as he witnesses Dean lift his head from the toilet. His hand runs over his mouth to wipe away any sickness. His eyes, red-rimmed and bloodshot, meet Castiel's when he finally lifts his head. Tears stain his cheeks from bringing up the contents of his stomach. 

Castiel falls to his knees when he's in front of Dean. His hands brush through blond locks in a effort to help soothe his boyfriend. 

Dean leans into the touch. His eyes flutter shut and Castiel smiles when his nose nuzzles his palm. 

'Why didn't you wake me?' Cas questions, his hands moves from Dean's face to his neck and shoulders. He starts to knead out the knots and tension that has gathered there from his sickness. 

'Didn't want to worry-' His words get cut off when he turns back to the toilet. The sound of retching finishing his sentence and Castiel breathes in, humming in sympathy. He manoeuvres himself until he's behind Dean. He reaches down and presses a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.

'It's okay, babe.' Cas whispers as one hand continues to massage his shoulders. His free hand reaches for a towel. He dumps it into the sink and blindly searches for the cold water tap. When he finds it, he turns and allows the water to soak the towel. He only shuts the water off a moment later when it's soaked through.

He removes his other hand so he can rinse the towel of excess water. 'I'll be two seconds, babe.' He mutters when Dean whines in protest at the lack of contact. 

Once it is ready, he brings it down onto Dean's neck. He notices the way that Dean sighs at the touch. _He must be burning up_ , he realises. He confirms this a moment later when he reaches around with his hand. He presses his hand to Dean's forehead to check the temperature. He gasps in shock when he feels how warm it is. 

'Dean, come back to bed.' Cas whispers, pulling at his arm and tugging him into a standing position. Dean staggers but Castiel wraps his arm around his waist, steadying him. 

'But what about the sick?' He questions but Castiel shakes his head. 

'Don't worry about that. I'll get a basin. You need to be in bed.' He advises as they start to walk through to their bedroom. 

As soon as he can, Castiel pushes Dean back down onto the bed. He pulls the covers over his body once more, even though he knows that Dean is burning up. He hasn't had much - or _any_ \- medical training. There's just something in him, telling him to keep him warm nonetheless. 

He takes the damp towel and drapes it over Dean's forehead. He hopes that it will counteract, or at least help lift, the heat from his skin. 

'I'm tired.' Dean mumbles after a moment, and Castiel smiles. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of Dean's nose.

'Then sleep.' 

Dean shakes his head, a soft, small shake that Castiel almost misses. 'I want you beside me. Come back to bed.' 

Dean reaches for Castiel, his hand curling around Castiel's shirt in a loose grasp. He tries to pull Castiel off his seat. He doesn't have the strength, and so all he does is stretch his shirt. 

Cas doesn't mind, though, and just smiles. He pries Dean's fingers free from his grey shirt. He shushes Dean when he whines at the loss of contact.

'Don't worry, I just didn't want to climb over you,' he explains. 'I'm coming to bed, don't worry.' 

Castiel moves to the bathroom, taking the towel with him. He's going to freshen it up for Dean before he falls asleep. When he comes back through, he half expects Dean to have succumbed to his fatigue. Instead he's greeted by Dean mumbling, 'Hurry up and get to bed.' 

Cas chuckles and spreads the towel over Dean's forehead. He moves around and slides into bed. He shudders when his skin comes in contact with the cold sheets. 

Dean's hand paws at his side and he takes the hint. He rolls over to his side and buries himself against Dean's side. He relishes in the warmth that he emits. Dean is warm anyway, but now the bug he has, it's like a personal hot water bottle. 

'Wake me if you're feeling sick. That's the agreement for me coming to bed, okay?' Cas warns, prompting Dean twice before he finally mumbles a sleepy "yeah" in reply. 

He knows the reason Dean is trying not to say yes is because he's not used to people caring. He doesn't like the idea of people worrying about him. Cas knows it's because he thinks he isn't worthy of that worry. But Cas… Cas worries and he knows that Dean is starting to see that.

So Castiel just throws his arm around Dean's middle, curling up behind him. He tries not to worry about how cold Dean's hand is, when he places it over his.

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Cas hasn't left Dean's side for twelve hours straight. Even though Dean doesn't even know he's there. The fever drags him into unconsciousness. Even when he does look like he's awake, he's hallucinating. Cas knows that because he doesn't say a single thing to Cas. He only talks about his mom. 

Cas can remember Dean mentioning a couple of things about her. He doesn't talk about her at all, but sometimes, he lets one or two little things slip. It's just enough that he gives Cas enough to build an image of her. To help him realise what an amazing mother she must have been. 

Instead of a lullaby, she would sing " _Hey, Jude"_. She had a smile that shined as bright as the sun, and eyes that held the happiness of the world. Her arms were always warm and made him feel safe. She was his happy place; his safe place. That's all Cas knew about her, but he was already grateful of her. 

She was the woman who gave Dean Winchester the heart of gold and the pure soul that he has.

'Mom.' Dean croaks this time, and all Cas can do is grab ahold of the cloth that he's doused in cold water. He presses it against his forehead, trying to help ease the fever. Dean shivers, and Cas swallows down the lump in his throat. 'Where my… rice and tomato soup?' 

Cas smiles. That's another thing Dean told him about Mary. Whenever he was sick, that's what she would make him. Because that's what her mother made her. He runs his hand through Dean's hair. His smile widens when Dean tilts his head into the touch. Even unconscious, he loves the feeling of Cas combing his hair. 

'It's coming soon. I just have to make it for you.' Cas replies, even though he knows that Dean will think it's his mother. He will do anything if it means making his best friend and the man he loves better. Cas repositions the cloth so that it's resting over his forehead. Dean's hand comes up to remove it and so Cas grabs hold of his hand. He bringing his hands to his lips so he can place a kiss to his knuckles. 'Keep that there, or there's no soup, Dean.' 

Dean makes only a small noise of protest, before he lets his hand drop to his side. Castiel smiles to himself, before he takes a deep breath and leaves Dean alone. He's not sure what the hell he's got in the kitchen. The kitchen is Dean's domain. He reckons that there will be enough to make a bowl of rice and tomato soup for Dean, though.

He pulls everything out of the cupboards, glad that it's all there. He also pulls out a pot which he fills with water. He is ready to light the cooker when everything goes dark around him. 

'You fucking dick.' Cas hisses as his eyes readjust to the darkness. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his lighter. He lets the shitty flame cast a tiny light around the room. He then fumbles his way over to the candles that are still scattered around the room. 

They knew better than to put them away after the first time Crowley shut their power off. They're always there in preparation for times like this. This time, Cas is more pissed than anytime before. Dean needs the heat this time around to fight off this infection. And he also needs the food in his stomach. 

And Crowley knows this. He knocked on their door earlier today, and found Dean coughing a lung up on the sofa. 

He knew Dean was sick, and he still did it. 

As soon as the candles are lit, Cas tucks his lighter back in to his pocket. He marches straight for the door. He wants to go and tell Dean that he won't be long, but he knows that Dean won't hear him, or miss him. 

Cas marches down the stairs, heading out of the apartment building. He crosses the road to Crowley's own home. He wonders why he chose Avenue A to live on. Especially when he also has other tenants and apartments. Right now, though, that's not important. 

What _is_ important is getting him to turn the power on again. 

Cas bangs on the door six times with the side of his fist. He pauses to see if he can hear any movement behind the door. He can't. Cas lifts his hand again and batters the door another six times. He lets his hand fall to his side when he finally hears someone move around inside. 

'Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell do you _want_?' Crowley's voice seeps through the door before it's opened. When Castiel sees his face, he's tempted to give him the same treatment he gave the door. But he has better manners than that. _It's not as fun to be on the receiving end, is it Crowley?_

'Oh,' Crowley's face falls for a beat, then a stupid grin spreads across his face. 'What can I do for you, darling Castiel?' 

'Turn the power back on Crowley, you _know_ Dean is sick.' 

'He is? Oh, that's a shame.' 

'Quit the bullshit, Crowley, you know it for a fact; you saw him. Turn the power back on before I end you.' 

Crowley's smirk doesn't falter. 'Threats get you nowhere, sugar. You may come from a big, powerful family. But the last time I checked you didn't want anything to do with them. And they don't even know where you are. So, why don't you stop wasting my time and start talking nicely?' 

Cas grinds his teeth together, forcing the words out of his mouth. ' _Please_ can you turn the power back on, Crowley?' 

'That's better.' 

'Thank you.'

'But still no.' Crowley goes to close the door, but Cas' hand comes up and pushes it open. His eyes are wild and desperate. He's positive he sees the bastard's grin widen when he realises this. 

'What do you mean "no"? Crowley, he needs the heat! He could die if he isn't warm and doesn't get fed!' 

Crowley looks as disinterested as ever. He cocks his to the side and after a moment or two pass. Cas watches as a dark, twisted glint enters his eyes. Cas knows that can can only cause trouble. 

'What?' Cas questions, though he's not sure he wants the answer. 

Crowley smiles at him, a grin that's all teeth. 

'Just what are you willing to do to keep your pretty boy safe?' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Three weeks had passed since Dean had fallen illl. Thanks to their heat not going off again, he makes a full recovery. 

However, he also notices that Cas has been disappearing more and more often. He knows that it's probably nothing. He could just be looking for a job seeing as Dean didn't have one now. But there's something deep in his gut that convinces him that it wasn't that. 

He wasn't looking for a job. Dean just knew it. 

He just isn't sure what he is doing when he disappears for hours on end. Especially when he then comes back looking… peculiar. He looks guilty and annoyed at something - maybe Dean, or himself. Or even someone he's been sneaking off to see. 

Dean considers bringing it up sometimes. Especially when Castiel has come back looking particularly flushed. Then the words seem to just die on his mouth. It's not like he's not curious. But Castiel has a routine when he comes back from these strange outings. He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up. He then marches through to what used to be his bedroom and stays there for five minutes. He does what Dean only assumes is pacing around the room and thinking. He then emerges looking a little fresher. His face _lights_ up when he sees Dean again. And if Dean had thought about asking him… it just disappears.

And it just reminds Dean that he had stayed by his side for the week that he was deliriously sick. He made him food and made sure he ate it. He bathed him and changed him. He looked after him like one would look after a loved one. 

It's that realisation that makes Dean just swallow hard. He would then open his arms for Castiel to collapse into. 

He knows that they haven't said the words yet. Dean doesn't know if he'll _ever_ make the words leave his mouth in fear of things going south. But… he knows deep down in his soul what he feels for Castiel. He knows what he assumes Castiel feels for him. 

'You're thinking too hard.' Castiel murmurs, soothing the wrinkles on his forehead with his finger. He then leans forward and presses a gentle kiss there. He's just making sure that the lines are completely away.

'Just thinking over a song.' Dean lies, reaching over to press a kiss to Castiel's temple in return. He thinks now would be a perfect time to ask him where he goes… or to tell him how he feels. 

Except, he does none of these things. 

Instead he just winds his arm around Castiel's shoulder. He lets the writer curl up on his lap. He tries to ignore the weight that is settling over his stomach. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean moans against Castiel's lips, his hands clenching around his waist. Blunt nails try to dig into slender pale skin. Castiel's hand tighten in his golden hair. Dean can feel the smirk on his lips as he rolls his hips. He grinds himself down onto Dean's lap with a slow, sinful circle of his hips.

'Fuck.' Dean breathes when Castiel pulls away from his lips, only to latch on to his neck a moment later. He starts at the corner just below his jawline. He starts sucking bruises down the tight line of straining muscles. Dean tilts his neck, allowing Castiel better access.

Castiel's hands move down Dean's chest. They just settle on the zipper of his jeans when the phone rings. Dean groans but Castiel stays put. He continues to nip at the flesh where his neck meets shoulder. 

But the phone keeps ringing and soon neither of them can ignore it, and so Cas pulls away with a curse. He looks down at Dean who looks just as flushed and annoyed as he feels. 

'Don't move.' He whispers, before he then hops off Dean's lap. He runs over to the phone that is still loudly ringing. It fills the entire apartment with its shrill sound. 

'Hello?' Cas greets, his voice reeking of impatience and Dean snorts in amusement. He cranes his head to watch as Castiel deals with whoever's on the phone. They must be an asshole, picking this time time to call.  

What he didn't expect, however, is the look that flashes onto Castiel's face. The second the person on the other end of the call replies. It's like watching all the colour drain out of his face. His eyes widening and his jaw slackening as if he's just seen - heard? - a ghost.

'Babe?' Dean calls but Castiel doesn't say anything to him. He doesn't even turn to him; his eyes don't even flicker. 

'Yes. Of course. Yeah.' Castiel mutters before he hangs up the phone. He sets it down heavily on the receiver with a dull thud. Dean's eyes study him, noticing the tension his back and shoulders. It's a sharp contrast to his relaxed form only a few seconds ago.

Who had been on the other end of the line? 

'Castiel?' Dean tries again and finally Cas' eyes turn to him. His expression seems to grow even more panicked then. He seems to go paler, even though he's snow white already. Dean didn't think it was possible to get any whiter.

'I've got to go.' Cas grinds out, turning his back on Dean who can only frown. The throbbing on his neck is a reminder of what they had been doing only a moment ago. As he watches Castiel shrug into his trench coat. His movements are stiff and controlled and Dean can't seem to help himself. 

'Cas?' He calls again when Cas finally gets to the door and slides it open. He stops short and the tension in his body grows, making Dean wince. Did he want to be that far away from him? Still, he's started now and he's going to finish. 

He waits until Cas turns around, hesitant blue eyes meeting Dean's green orb. He almost wants to just tell him to go. There's something about staring into Castiel's eyes. It's hard seeing worry there. It makes Dean's mind play a mental game of tug and war. 

One one hand he wants to just spill his feelings. Admit everything to Castiel in the hopes that he returns the sentiment. 

But on the other, he just wants to push Castiel away. He wants to tell him that if he's going to push, then Dean is going to push back. He doesn't pull people close - not if they don't want to be there. 

Yet, somehow, he doesn't seem to have his normal reaction when it comes to this sort of thing. For what breaks free from his lips is, 'I love you, Cas.' 

Cas makes sound in the back of his throat. A whine; a cry. 

Dean gives him a soft smile, almost trying to reassure him. He assumes it doesn't do its task, though. For Castiel just chokes out, 'I've got to go,' once more and then turns. He walks through the door, leaving Dean alone with his confession echoing around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	7. The Songwriter Cannot Hear

Dean slides the door open with a smile on his face, only for it to fall away a moment later. He had been hoping Castiel was on the other side of the door. Sure, Castiel didn't need to knock but Cas was weird. Sometimes he did things he didn't need to. 

But he isn't greeted by Castiel's beautiful face. Instead he's face to face with Crowley's piggish features. 

He folds his arms over his chest as his face contorts into a sneer. 'What the fuck do you want?' 

Crowley says nothing. He just pushes past Dean. He steps into the apartment with his hands buried in his coat pockets. He turns his head, looking to either side of him. He even gazes into the bedrooms, whistling as he does so. 

'What the fuck are you doing, Crowley?' Dean snarls, and Crowley turns back to him. He stops whistling the second his gaze falls on Dean.

'Where's your pretty boy?' He questions, and Dean's glare turns into a frown. What on earth does he want with Cas? He doesn't answer him. Dean continues to stare at him, mirroring his face back into a glare. 

'He's out.' Dean bites out. He doesn't even _know_ where Castiel is. He's just simply "out". It bothers him on so many levels that he doesn't know a damn thing. But he's not going to let Crowley know that. 

'But you don't know where?' Crowley prompts, causing Dean to grind his teeth together. He doesn't say anything, he just shakes his head. His hands clench into fists on either side of his body. Crowley smirks at him, teasingly, tauntingly. 'What if I told you _I_ knew where he was?' 

'I would call you a liar.' Dean retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. He grabs onto his arms to stop himself from grabbing Crowley. His fingers bite into his skin, but he doesn't loosen his grasp. The pain is stopping him from hurling Crowley against a wall.

Crowley tuts, shaking his head with a grin slowly spreading across his lips. He glances down at his watch and the grin widens. Dean's fingers flex against his arms. He lifts his head and sends Dean a wink. He sees Dean sneer again, looking like he's going to burst a vein and attack him. He chuckles loudly. 

'Pretty boy will be back in five minutes.' Crowley's grin widens impossibly further. 'I dare say he may be a little tired. His activities always tend to exhaust him… though I'm sure you'll know that.' 

Dean sees red. He lets out a shout as he lunges at Crowley, but the bastard weasels out the way. He chuckles. _The bastard was expecting that_. 

'Like I said, five minutes, Dean-o.' He repeats, before he makes his way to the door. He slides it shut behind him and Dean lets out a loud shout. He kicks out, sending the nearest object - a trashcan - hurtling across the room. Dean moves over to the couch and falls down onto it. His hands reach for his hair, tugging on his blond locks. Pain erupts through his skull but he doesn't care. It's better than the pain that's settling in his chest. 

Despite himself, he glances at his watch. _Four minutes_. He doesn't believe Crowley one bit… but what if he is back soon? What if he comes home exactly when Crowley says he will? 

_Cas wouldn't cheat_. He tells himself, but it's hard to convince himself. He also thought Benny wouldn't do drugs. He thought Benny wouldn't die. He thought Benny wouldn't push him away. He thought a lot of things that he was wrong about. 

'Face it, Dean, you suck at reading people.' He sighs, letting his hands drop from his hair. He spares another glance at his watch. _Three minutes_. Who is he kidding? Why would Cas cheat on him? And with _Crowley_? He shakes his head. Crowley is just trying to get a rise out of him. He's just trying to drive a wedge between him and Cas. That's all there is to it. 

_Two minutes_. Then again, why would Crowley bother saying that? He should have known that Dean wouldn't believe him. And yet, he's still questioning this. Still glancing at his watch to see how long he'll be - if he's telling the truth. 

When the five minutes are up, and Cas is nowhere to be seen, Dean scrubs a hand over his face. What was he even thinking? Why would he _believe_ Crow- the door slides open. Dean's head whips around to find Cas sauntering into the room. His bag is slung over his shoulder, almost falling off. His brown hair sticks up everywhich way. A look of total dishevelment.

'That's me back.' Cas smiles, sitting down his bag at the door as he slides it shut. He walks over until he's standing in front of Dean. He smiles down at him and leans down for a kiss. Only Dean doesn't let their lips meet. He pulls away. 

Castiel frowns at him, pulling back. He looks hurt but Dean can't find himself to care. How on _earth_ did Crowley know when he was going to be home? He wants answers but he can't think of a way to get them. He knows he should just open his mouth and ask. But he can't. He knows that if he opens his mouth, what comes out won't be calm questions. It'll be harshness; it'll be violent accusations. 

And despite it all, he doesn't want to react that way with Cas.

'Dean? Dean, what is it? What's wrong? _Talk to me_.' Cas' hands are on his face, trying to get Dean to look at him. Dean keeps his gaze to the ground. He can't make himself look at Castiel. If he looks into his eyes, he's going to fall about. And he can't fall apart. He's fallen apart enough in his life. Castiel is the person that puts him back together. Not the one that has a hand in tearing him apart. 

'Dean, _please_!' There's a pleading note in his voice that Dean cannot ignore. He lifts his head to meet Castiel's gaze. Redness circle his blue eyes - they're worn and tired. _He's not sleeping once he's done fucking._ Dean shakes his head and wrenches himself free from Castiel's hold. 

He stands, his hands returning to his hair. His hold is still tight and painful. This time it doesn't drown out the crushing feeling settling over his chest. 

'How did Crowley know when you'd be back?' He finally questions. His voice is quiet. Defeated. He lets his hands fall from his his hair. He doesn't turn to stare at Castiel, opting to study the floor instead. His shoulders slump, folding in on themselves. _Face it, Winchester, you don't deserve good things_. 

'What?' Cas questions, and Dean closes his eyes to calm himself. He's not in the mood for the oblivious act. He lets out a long exhale to calm himself. 

'Crowley.' He answers shortly, the name leaving his mouth like he's spitting out venom. He turns around to face Castiel. He tries not to overthink whatever it is he sees, but it's hard. His mind goes into overdrive. He looks edgy - he looks nervous. He looks like someone has just caught him in a horrible act. _He's guilty_. Dean's not sure what he's guilty of, but he knows that he's guilty of something. _What else could he be guilty of, Dean_? He shakes his head. 

'What about him?' Castiel ventures. He sounds hesitant. He's trying to get info out of Dean without landing himself in it. Without showing what he's been doing. 

Dean clenches his jaw together. 'He told me exactly when you'd be home. Five minutes, he told me, five minutes and your pretty boy will be home. Imagine my surprise when five minutes later, you walk through the door!' 

'Coincidence! Don't you think he's just trying to rile you up!' Castiel replies, but there's not as much fight in his voice as Dean expected. Surely, someone who is innocent would be fucking offended by the accusation. He just looks… relieved almost. 

'He also said you'd look tired.' Dean replies, his voice breaking. He drops down to nothing more than a whisper. 'He said your activities tend to leave you exhausted.' 

'What activities?' 

Dean shakes his head with a scoff. 'That's what I'm asking you. But look at you! It's hard not to tell. I don't know why I've been so _stupid_! All those times you've just disappeared! Gone away for a few hours and then came back looking exhausted. You'd always just go to sleep afterwards.' 

Dean feels tears well up in his eyes as he lists all the evidence. He hadn't even realised he had so much. His hand pinches the bridge of his nose, wiping away at his eyes.

Cas takes a step towards him, but Dean jerks back. He knows that if Cas gets any closer to him, he's going to punch him, or hurt him in some other way.

'Don't!' He calls out. 'Please don't. The last thing I need is for you to come closer.' 

Cas looks crestfallen - heartbroken. All Dean wants is to make that look disappear. But then he remembers why that look is there on his face, anyway. 

He shakes his head as his hand lifts to pinch at his eyes again. Dean feels wetness drip down his cheeks. He sniffles, trying to will them back into his eyes. Cas watches as the light that shines through the apartment glimmers in the teardrops. He hesitates only briefly before he steps forward. His hand comes up and his thumb brushes them away. 

Dean lowers his hand. He watches the man he loves - loved? No, definitely still loves - as he wipes his tears away. He always touches him so softly, so reverently. _Has he ever touched Crowley like that?_ A treacherous part of his mind whispers, and Dean wrenches him away from him. 

'I need you out of here.' He whispers, his gaze kept down to the ground. 'You have until the end of the night.' 

Cas feels everything drain from him. He feels as if someone is wrenching his heart from his chest. Then thrown it bloodily to the ground. The room spins as he chokes out, 'What?' 

'Get out. Leave. Just _go_! I don't care where. Move in with your precious fuck-boy, Crowley. I don't care! Just get out!' Dean is shouting by the end of the sentence. He wants to say more. He wants to ask questions. He wants to know more. But his throat clenches as if gripped tight by a fist. He chokes out a shout as he turns away and starts walking to the door. 

'Is this what you really want?' Cas calls out after him. 'You really want me gone?' 

Dean notes that his voice is broken, and his heart clenches. He wants to turn and take Castiel into his arms. But when he closes his eyes to steady his thoughts… he sees them both. He sees Castiel moaning and arching into Crowley's touch. And _Crowley_? What did that slimy bastard have that Dean didn't?

_Power and money._

Dean swallows hard and turns back to Cas. There's a constant stream of tears on his cheeks, but Dean puts that to the back of his mind. 

He nods his head once. 'It's what I want. You have until tonight. I'll be with -' he goes to say Jo and Ellen, but he remembers that Anna will most likely be with them. He's not ready to face the sister of the man that broke his heart. 'The girls next door.' 

He doesn't even know if they're inside, but he turns back and walks to their apartment. They let him without a question, even though they know something's wrong. He has a feeling they even heard the entire conversation through their walls. They were paper thin, after all. 

By the time he gathers enough energy - or courage - to go back through to his own apartment, Castiel is long gone. 

And there's no evidence that he was ever there to begin with.

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

The smell of bacon manages to lure Krissy out of her room. She leaves behind a still sleeping Josephine as closes the door behind her. Her hand rubs at her eyes, trying to grind the blurriness away. Her hands move to comb her curls into a ponytail, before she studies her kitchen. 

'Why do I feel that you haven't sleep again?' Krissy mutters as she hops onto the kitchen stools. They creak under her weight, having been secondhand, but they still do their purpose. 

Dean shrugs and says nothing. He flips the bacon, before scooping it onto a plate. 

'Dean, this isn't healthy!' Krissy snaps, pushing away the plate of bacon. Her mouth waters at the sight and smell, but Dean Winchester is more important. 'I know you're sad about Castiel, but you're going to kill yourself doing this.' 

'Would that be so bad?' 

Krissy grinds her teeth together and reaches across the worktop. The slap echoes around the empty apartment, followed by Dean's shout of pain. 

'Of fucking course it would! Look, I know it hurts. You feel like everything has went wrong because Cas cheated on you. What you should do, though, is _move on_.' She takes a deep breath and braces herself. She knows it's for the best, but this man is like her big brother. He's been there when no-one else was. This was for his own good, though. 'That's what I think you should move back to your own apartment. Things are just too crowded in here, Dean.' 

Dean feels like someone has knocked the wind out of him. His throat constricts and he can't bring himself to say anything. There's a humming in his mind - a constant thrum of _get out, get out_ that he can't sop. He raises a shaking hand to rub at his forehead. 

Before he can say anything, Hael, Claire and Josephine stumble out of their bedrooms. He swallows hard and turns away from them. He knows that they heard… it doesn't stop him pretending they didn't. 

'The girls and I are going out for breakfast.' Krissy declares, her voice soft. 'We'll bring you back something, if you want?' 

Her eyes flicker to the bacon which Dean lifts and dumps in the bin. _What a waste_. She feels like calling him out, but doesn't. He bought and made the bacon - he can do with it whatever he wants. 

Dean nods his head and Krissy gives him a smile, which he doesn't turn to see. He only turns when he hears the door slide open and then closed again. 

He falls against the worktop, the sharp edge digging into the small of his back. His throat burns as his breath is ripped from his lungs. His knuckles turn white as they grasp the counter behind him. 

He knows it's foolish. He knows that he needed to return to his own apartment at some point. He just assumed it would be of his own choice; he never for a second thought he'd be kicked out. 

He pushes away from the counter and stumbles out their apartment. He hasn't got anything there that he needs to pick up. When he needs to change, he goes back home. He dresses as quick as he can and then leaves before the memories start coming back to him. 

Dean slides the door open and stops short. Everything clenches and his breath catches. 

'Oh, just the person I was looking for.' Crowley grins. His head cocks to the side in a teasing manner. Dean's hands flex, only to clench into a fist again. He barges by Crowley, not in the mood to deal with him. He knows that if he stays in his presence, he'll hurt him. And hurt him bad. 

Dean has every intention of just walking away from him. He finds he can't, though, when Crowley declares, 'I see why you liked him. Those pretty lips do look good around cock, don't they Winchester?' 

A feral noise breaks free from Dean's lips as he turns back to his landlord. He grabs aholf of Crowley's jacket to steady himself. He hadn't even realised he'd moved. He then throws the first punch. It catches the side of Crowley's face, as the other man turns away, trying to avoid the blow. Dean doesn't care about that. He only lifts his hand once more. He sends his fist hurling into Crowley's face again. It catches him square on the nose this time. 

The pleasant crunch from his nose drives yet another punch out of Dean. He finds that no matter if he wants to, he can't stop. Even as blood covers his fist, dripping down his arm. Even as Crowley is moaning beneath him and trying to fight back. He finds he just can't stop himself. 

Crowley did this to him. Crowley tore him and Cas apart. Whether he offered Cas the life that Dean couldn't give him, he doesn't know. He just needs Crowley to feel the same pain that he feels. He can't even step inside his apartment now. He opts to sleep on Krissy and the girls' couch. 

There's a searing pain now that Cas is gone, and his apartment is empty once more. It's a _million_ times more painful than it ever was with Benny. Dean doesn't even know how to cope this time. 

This is the only way he knows will make him feel better; by making Crowley pay.

'Dean!' He hears someone call, but he keeps going. He can feel Crowley growing pliant beneath him, but he doesn't care. He hears his name shouted again, and it finally registers who is shouting him. He stops immediately and turns, finding the four girls standing by him.

He sees Krissy take a step forward and her arms wrap around his arm. He's too much in shock to even protest as she hauls him off Crowley. 

'Make sure he's still alive. Then get an ambulance.' Krissy orders. Dean sees from the corner of his eyes that Josephine jumps to fulfil the order. 

Krissy stops, just before she leads Dean into her apartment. 'And make sure he tells no-one who did this to him.' Her eyes land on Crowley, who is blinking blearily through swollen eyes. 'I'll make sure you never see light again if you say the words "Dean Winchester" to a cop.'

She turns away when Crowley nods. Her only intention now is getting Dean inside her apartment. She locks the door behind them as an extra precaution. 

'What the fuck was that about, Dean?' She snaps as she pushes him down on the couch. She doesn't wait for an answer. She turns to Hael and Claire. 'Can you do something with these wounds, Hael?' 

Hael nods in reply, her throat too tight to speak. She moves away to start preparing some water and bandages. Dean and Krissy are left alone once more. 

'So?' She prompts, crossing her arms over her chest. 

'I snapped.' He answers, his entire body deflating. 'He was talking about Cas. He was saying all these horrible things. I just… wanted to make him _hurt_.' 

His hands ball into fists. He doesn't even care about the sting that comes from his wounds. Hael hisses at him when she comes back through, a bowl of water in tow. He relaxes his grasp. 

'That may be,' Hael chastises, dipping the cloths into the water. 'But you could have found a better way to do it. Him missing his teeth is a different pain to you missing Ca- _him_.' She amends when she realises that Dean doesn't want to hear Castiel's name. 

'So?' 

Hael grinds her teeth together, pressing the cloth to Dean's wounds. He hisses in pain and tries to pull his hand away, but she holds tight. 

'You need to find another way to make him pay.' Hael murmurs as she cleans the blood from Dean's knuckles. 'Crowley doesn't form close connections, so you can't harm the people he loves. The only thing he has going for him are his apartment buildings.' 

'What do you want me to do, Hael? Blow them up?' 

Hael digs the cloth into his knuckles. He groans, but the glare that Hael sends him silences him. 

'No. I don't want you to _blow them up_.' She rolls her eyes as she places the cloth into the bowl of water to rid it of the blood. Once it is clean, she turns to continue cleaning Dean's knuckles. Her eyes stay on his hands, but she keeps talking. 'But you need to do something. Crowley is going to get over your beating, and hate you even more. You - all of us, really - need to find a way to get him out of New York.' 

Dean eyes train on the younger woman. She looks a lot like Castiel; the same dark hair, the same bright blue eyes. He wonders why he never noticed it before. He nods his head slowly. It would definitely make sense. To rid New York of one more parasite; one more disease. 

'I like the way you think, Hael.' His eyes flicker around the room, noticing that Josephine has slipped into their apartment. She, Krissy and Claire stare at Dean and Hael. They have their eyes narrowed. Dean knows it's not in annoyance at their discussion, however.

They're actually considering it as well. 

Dean feels a smirk spread across his face. 'I think we need to start planning things out. New York City needs a new _king_.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean can hear the banging at his door, but he doesn't move to get it. No-one on the other end of that door can be of any interest to him. But the person does not seem to realise that, for the banging persists. Dean groans and turns his head to watch the door. 

He can practically see it jumping with the amount of pressure. It's just like the thing. He finally moves back to his own apartment. After spending two weeks sleeping on the girls' couch. Only to have someone at his door already. 

'It's fucking open! Just slide it!' He finally calls, when the banging starts to reverberate inside his head. He has a feeling that the few glasses of whiskey he's had doesn't help. Still, no-one needs to know that. 

The banging stops as soon as he's spoken, and the creak of the door comes instead. Dean raises his hands to his temples, pressing his fingers into the flat plane of his head. His eyes fall shut, even as he hears footsteps echo around him. 

They stop in front of him. He knows that much from the sound. He still doesn't crack his eyes open. Whoever it is, he really doesn't want to face them. 

'Well,' Dean's entire jerks in shock at the voice. 'You look like shit.' 

His eyes fly open, his shocked expression changing to a large smile. He throws himself off the couch and into his baby brother's arms. Though it's hard to tell that, what with him being a freaking giant. 

'Sammy! What the hell are you doing here?' Dean questions as soon as he pulls back. The smile falters for only a second. After all, his first instinct is to call for Castiel. _Come and meet the little brother I've been telling you about!_ He manages to keep it on his lips, though, and continues, 'Did you bring Jess? And my little niece?' 

'No, this isn't a _happy_ visit, Dean.' Sam mutters as he pulls away from Dean. He pushes Dean so he's sitting back on the couch, head craning to look Sam in the eye. Sam stays standing and continues, 'This is more of a… how do I put it? " _You're friends are so fucking worried they called me and I had to come out here to deal with it_ " visit.' 

Dean frowns as his eyes flicker to the door. He doesn't see anyone for Sam closed the door behind him. He knows that he's talking about the girls next door, though. 

He shakes his head. 'I don't know why they're calling you, I'm _fine_!' 

He goes to stand but Sam's hands are on his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the sofa. He willingly goes. Sam follows him a moment later, sitting down beside Dean. His eyes are narrowed, the lines on his forehead deep in concern. 

'You're clearly not fine, Dean!' Sam sighs. 'Krissy told me you'd been sleeping on her sofa for two weeks. That you nearly beat Crowley to death! The only _sort of_ decent you've been doing is trying to find a way to get Crowley out of New York!' 

Dean shrugs and says nothing. Sam sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. How on earth does he make his brother understand? 

'Why don't you find Castiel. _Talk to him_. Get his side of the story.' Sam suggests, but he knows it's a mistake the second he speaks it. Dean goes to stand from his seat, but Sam's quick to move. He grabs Dean's hand and keeps him on the couch beside him. 'I'm being serious, Dean!' 

'What fucking difference does it make? He's not the person I thought he was!' Dean snaps, wrenching his hand free from Sam's grasp. He does his younger brother a favour, however, and stays sitting. 

Sam sighs. He stands from his seat and walks to stand in front of Dean again. He gazes down at his brother before he sighs again. There's no way around it. He needs to break out all the information that he managed to dig up before he came out here. 

Sam Winchester was nothing if not prepared. 

'Do you know Castiel actually came from a family of millionaires? Sam questions. He phrases it in a way that Dean knows he's expecting the answer to be "no". But that's a lie. They weren't like what he and Benny were like. They actually opened up to each other. Dean knows that Sam is just making assumptions from his past relationships. 

'I did, actually. He was raised to be a soldier too, did you know that?' 

'I did… did you know he graduated from MIT?' 

That is something that Dean did _not_ know, and he turns to Sam with a frown on his face. 

'What?' 

'Yeah. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Top of his class with a major in computer science and engineering, as well as a minor in math.' Sam declares, his eyes meeting Dean's a moment later. 'Did you know that the ATMs around Alphabet City started geting hacked? Around the same time that Cas started "sleeping" with Crowley? Don't you find that odd?'

'What the hell are you talking about, Sam?' Dean snaps. 

'You need to start reading a newspaper, Dean! ATMs all around Alphabet City have been hacked. Meaning that by inserting a simple code, they can withdraw money without needing a card. Or a pin. Or even a bank account. It will just spew the money out.'  

'So?' 

'So, I called Charlie, the "genius" you've been telling me about. I asked her to see if she could find out just what code was needed for the ATM to give you money. It took her some time, and it was just a hunch, but she called me back a few days ago with the information. Every ATM used the same code… and that code was 3326.' 

'Dammit Sammy, just spit it out before I end up giving you the same treatment as Crowley!'

'If you forget the numbers for a moment. Instead look at what it could spell with the letters from those numbers on a keypad. Three could be, I don't know, "D". The second three could be, let's say "E". Two has got to be "A". Six would be an "N".' 

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes. 'Don't be fucking stupid, Sam. I've heard Crowley say it himself; Cas slept with him, there's nothing more to it.' 

Dean isn't expecting it. Maybe that's why it surprises him so much when Sam's hand connects with the back of his head. It's a sharp, sore slap. 

'How can you be so fucking stupid at times?' Sam snaps. The fact he's swearing alerts Dean to how pissed Sam is with him. 'You're taking _Crowley's_ word over Castiel's? The man you're supposed to love? The same Crowley that turns your electricity off when you're unwell? Who has left you without heating in the cold, New York winter nights? You're just going to _believe_ him?' 

Realisation suddenly dawns on Dean. His eyes widen momentarily, before he stands from his seat. He runs a hand through his blond hair. 

'Fuck!' He shouts. 'What have I done, Sam? I threw him away, all on the word of some slimy bastard!'

'You may not have done. Go and find, Crowley, I've seen the way you can get things out of people. If you want the truth, you'll get it Dean.' 

'What's the point?' Dean sighs. 'Cas is gone. He's not going to come back.' 

'Dean he loves you. I'm sure that he's hurt but if you apologise and listen this time, he'll come back. I haven't met him, sure, but from what you've told me about him, he loves you as much as you love him.' 

'Not possible.' Dean replies instantly, almost automatically. He stares into space, trying to figure out whether to go and face Crowley or not. He even misses the way Sam's lips flicker into a soft smile. Sam turns away from his brother, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. It's so strange to hear his older brother talk like that. This is the person who used to beat up all of his bullies for him.

When he turns back to look at Dean once more, he's gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m on [tumblr](http://runningwithshewolves.tumblr.com) and [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lottielovebuzzs-Fanfiction/154475354679423)! come and say hi!!


	8. Dying in America

Dean swallows hard, raising his hand slowly. His knuckles graze the wood of the door before he lets it fall again. He shakes his head with a sigh. _What is wrong with you, Winchester?_ He shakes his head again and raises his hand once more. 

Before he allows his hand to drop for a second time, he knocks the door three times. The sharp chapping echoes around the empty hallway. He looks around himself. He doesn't even know what he's looking for, but whatever it is, he knows it isn't there. 

He turns back around when he hears the lock on the door go. His eyes raise, swallowing when they come in contact with green eyes much like his own. Red hair cascades down over shoulders in a messy braid, and Anna looks like she's ready to kill him already. _This is not going to go well._

'What the hell do you want?' She sneers. Dean opens his mouth, ready to answer, but Anna cuts him off. 'Y'know, if you didn't mean so much to Jo, I'd string you up right now!' 

'Put the claws in kitty.' Jo's voice seeps in through Dean's ears, and never before has her voice sounded like that of an angel. Maybe today won't be the day that he dies at Anna Milton's hands. 

Jo appears in his sight a moment later, shouldering her way past Anna and embracing him. Dean holds on to her, thankful for the act of kindness. He wraps his arms around, holding her tight and considering never letting her go.

'What's warranted this, Dean?' She questions, managing to manoeuvre herself from Dean's grasp. Her hand comes up to his cheek and she cups it with her palm. Her fingers graze his stubbled skin. When she meets his gaze, her lips quirk and she continues, 'Stupid question, I know. It's about Cas, isn't it?' 

'What the hell do you want him for? Haven't you hurt him enough?' 

'For fuck sake, Anna!' Jo snaps, rounding on her girlfriend with her eyes narrowed. 'We've been over this. Dean may have been an idiot to accuse him of cheating and throwing him out. But your brother didn't put up much of a fight. And he didn't deny it, either. He admitted that himself! Whatever else he said, I don't know, but I know he said that much.' 

'He's been here?' Dean enquires, hoping to break the tension between the two women in front of him. The last thing he needs is for his fucking stupidity to ruin Jo and Anna's happiness. 'Do you know where he is?' 

No-one answers him. He turns his gaze to Jo and knows immediately that she has no idea. He would know already if she knew. He swallows and turns to Anna, his gaze desperate and pleading. 

'Anna, please.' He chokes on a sob, and his hands clench into fists. He's not upset with her - in fact, he respects her even more for standing up for Cas. No. He's mad at himself and he wants nothing more to put his hand through the nearest wall.

He has a feeling that neither Jo or Anna would be pleased with that, though. He's working on making them like him. Not hate him. 

'I don't want to hurt him anymore. I want to tell him I was a fool; I want to tell him that I shouldn't have let my own stupidity and vulnerability draw a wedge between us. I want to tell him I should have always trusted him. I want to tell him that, if he'll let me, I'll make it up to him. I'll love him like I should have - I'll respect and trust and care for him like I should have. I just… need to find him, Anna! _Please_.' 

Anna's features remain unchanged. She doesn't even blink as she studies Dean's face. It's almost as if she's checking for sincerity. 

After a moment, she sighs and closes her eyes. It's a brief thing, but then she's looking Dean in the eye once more, and he doesn't care about anything else. 

'I don't know where he is. He talked to me about a lot of things - things that I'm not going to share because you should hear it from him. And he needs to hear you say that as well.' Her hand pinches the bridge of her nose. It's then that Dean realises what's so different about her. She no longer has her eyes heavily rimmed with black kohl. Her lips are a normal nude colour - maybe even natural? 

When Dean first met her, she was a biker/punk/rockstar chick; decked out in leather and studs and six-inch-heels. Now, she looks the exact opposite. 

'I tried to get him to stay here with me. But he wouldn't. He's independent. When he first left our family, I tried to get him to stay with me but, again, he wouldn't. Nothing I said would convince him.' Anna admits, her shoulders slumping. Jo reaches up and wraps her arm around her shoulders. Anna's eyes find Dean's again, almost as if Jo's touch gives her strength to go on. 'Find him and apologise. Listen and accept his. Make him happy… but know this, Dean. If you hurt him again, I will not be as kind. Not even my love for Jo will stop me from hurting you.' 

Dean nods his head, his gaze briefly flickering to Jo at the mention of "love". He finds the blonde with a wide smile on her face, almost as if she's heard those words before but will never tire of them. _Just like it should be_. He offers Jo a small smile in return when she meets his gaze. 

'Believe me. I won't hurt him again.' Dean declares and after another moment of studying his face, Anna nods her head. 

'I hope you find him.' 

The words follow him as he turns away and walks out of the building. Somehow, he's even more determined - desperate? - to find Cas now. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean jogs up beside the stranger. He had seen him around _The Roadhouse_ before it burnt down. He wasn't quite a regular, but he was there often enough to know Cas. And to maybe help him _find_ Castiel. 

'Excuse me! Hang on a minute!' Dean calls, and thankfully, the guy stops. He turns to Dean with a raised eyebrow. Dean digs into his pocket, pulling out the photo he'd been using to show people what Cas looked like. It was both of them, Dean's arm wrapped around Cas' shoulder. A wide smile on both their lips. ' _Please_ tell me you've seen this man around. I know New York is massive, but no-one outside of Alphabet City ever visited _The Roadhouse_.' 

The man says nothing for a long time. He studies the photo of Dean and Cas, before he hands it back to Dean. 

'I saw him _once_ quite recently. Not like, days ago, but maybe sometime last week? He was at an ATM on Avenue B. That's about as best as I can do, man.' He offers Dean a small smile. 'Sorry I couldn't help any better.' 

Dean gives him a smile in return, pocketing the photo. He shakes his head. 'Trust me, you helped more than you think.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

'So, there's not been many sightings of him, but what we _have_ got seems to tell a pretty good story.' Sam declares as he studies the wall in front of him. It had been Dean's idea, pinning up everything they learnt about Castiel's movements. That way, they could look at everything at once. Sam had to hide his prideful smile, knowing Dean would curse him for it. 

'Yeah,' Krissy agrees with a hum. Her eyes go to the first piece of paper. 'Not long after you kicked him out, he was seen at his sister's apartment. Both Jo and Anna vouched for that. No idea what they talked about - Anna isn't saying - but they talked. A few days after that, he is seen exiting another home on Avenue D. No-one inside or answering any time we go by.' 

Hael steps forward then. Her eyes focus on the image of Castiel and Dean. _They look so happy together._ 'We then got a hint that he was at one of the hacked ATMs, drawing cash. Then a few days after that - two days ago - he was seen with twelve red roses.' She turns to Dean and cocks her eyebrow. 'Maybe he's coming to woo you back?' 

Dean shakes his head. He doesn't look up at them from his guitar, his baby. He continues to strum out Castiel's song. It's coming closer and closer to completion. He just hopes that, one day, he gets to play the damn song to him. 

'Castiel isn't the kind to try and worm his way back into someone's life. I threw him out - I wanted nothing to do with him. He would have respected that. Sure, it would've hurt him and maybe he _wants_ to fight. But he wouldn't.' Dean sighs and strums another chord. ' _Your eyes as we said our goodbyes._ ' 

God. They were rimmed with red and full of unshed tears. What did he do when Dean turned his back on him? Did he collapse to the ground and cry? Or did he put on a brave face as he packed his bags? Did he wait until he was at his sister's home to break down? Or did he do it on the streets outside of what used to be his home?

'Well, if he has no intention of wooing you… then why buy red roses?' Claire questions. Her eyes zone in on the drawing Hael had done. It hadn't really been a requirement, but she still did it. Twelve roses drawn in red ink hang above the post-it note. 

'Maybe it's someone's favourite flower.' Dean mutters. It's nothing more than an offhand comment, but it strikes something within him. He stops strumming at his guitar. He doesn't turn to look at his friends, but stares off into space as something comes back to him.

_'Tell me more about her.' Dean questioned, his hand combing through Cas' dark hair. He gazed down at him as bright blue orbs fixed on him in return. He smiled softly. 'Tell me more about Meg.'_

_'Why do you want to know about her?' Cas asked in reply. He didn't sit up from his position. Dean's lap was far too comfortable to do that. Instead, he just adjusted his head so he could study Dean's face easier. He wanted to see if he could read a reason in his features._

_He couldn't._

_'She meant a lot to you, babe.' Dean retorted. 'I told you about Benny. I know you didn't ask but I could tell you wanted to know. And I can tell you want to tell me about her. Sometimes you let little things slip. Like when I made you that barbecue sauce last week? You just slipped in a comment about how it was Meg's favourite sauce - that she had it with everything.'_

_Cas' lips quirked at that. He nodded his head. 'What do you want to know?'_

_'I don't know. All those stupid little things that you remember about her. Her favourite colour. Her favourite song. Just small things like that.'_

_'Her favourite colour_ **_s_ ** _were purple and black. Her favourite song was "Highway to Hell"_ ****_by AC/DC. Her favourite film was "It's A Wonderful Life" - it's why she used to call me Clarence as a nickname. Her favourite stone was emerald, because her grandmother's engagement had an emerald instead of a diamond. She pawned that for drugs at the lowest point of her addiction. Her favourite flowers were roses - red to be precise. Those dark red ones though. "Dark like my soul, Clarence", she used to say.'_

Dean turns to them with wide eyes. He's vaguely aware that they haven't even noticed the look on his face; hadn't been aware of his revelation.

It's not until Josephine turns to him, as if she had been talking to him. Her breath catches. 'What's wrong, Dean?' 

Everyone turns to look at him then. They take in the colour that's draining from his face. His parted lips that form a soft gasp. His eyes wide and shocked and confused, and almost… _relieved._

'What date is it today?'

Josephine shrugs. Her eyes flicker over to her friends, who in turn shrug too. Sam lets out a groan of annoyance as he rolls his eyes. 'Do you just enter the bohemian life and no longer care about time? It's the 24th of November, Dean. Why?' 

Dean stands from his seat, the widest smile spreading across his lips. He throws Baby down on the couch. 'I know where he's going to be.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Dean stands a good distance back, his hands buried deep in his leather jacket. He watches Castiel, who stands in front of Meg's gravestone, the red roses in his grasp. He crouches down and sits the flowers on the ground in front of the elegant gravestone. His free hand comes to trail over the golden letters on the stone: _Meg Masters_. 

A lump appears in Dean's throat when Cas just collapses, crossing his legs as his hands clench into fists in his lap. Dean takes a step forward as he tries to figure out what the hell he's going to say. What does he say to Cas? To prove to him that he still loves him? That he never _stopped_ loving him? 

Nothing. He can't even think of an answer. 

He moves closer; close enough to hear what Cas is saying - what he's saying to Meg. What he says when he thinks no-one is around to hear. Dean doesn't say anything. He holds his breath and doesn't allow himself to be heard. He doesn't want to scare Cas or make him run away. This is his moment to fix things. 

'I miss you.' Cas declares, and it's the first time Dean's ever heard him sound so vulnerable. Not even when he was asking Dean if he really wanted him to leave did he sound so weak. 'I need you here. I need you to tell me what to do. I have no idea what to do Meg.' He sniffles, his hand coming up to brush away tears. 

Dean feels a lump appear in his throat as he stares at his back. Cas bows his head and Dean can actually hear his sob. His heart clenches and he takes another step forward, only to stop as soon as he remembers himself. 

' _Tell me what to do, Meg_.' Cas sobs and the sadness is too evident for Dean to ignore this time. He shakes his head mentally. He starts walking forward, no longer caring if Castiel can hear his feet crunching against the fallen leaves. His only goal right now is getting to Cas' side. 

He might have came here with the intention of proving to Cas that he still loved him. The lyrics from his song play on repeat in his mind as evidence. But that's not what he needs to show Cas, right now. He doesn't need to sing Castiel a song; he just needs to know that Dean is there for him. He just needs to show Cas that, no matter what, he will always be there for him. 

Dean stops when he's stood beside Cas. He doesn't look up at him or say anything. He just shuffles a little to the left. Dean's lips quirk and he sits down beside Castiel, his eyes raking over Meg's gravestone. 

_Meg Masters_

_25_ _ th_ _July 1971 - 25_ _ th_ _November 1992 (Aged 22)_

_"Each man's life touches so many lives. When he's not around, he leaves an awful hole"_

He clears his throat and wonders whether he should say anything. What even should he say? _Nice epitaph_ , doesn't seem to fit it.

'I don't think you've been formally introduced,' Cas declares, taking the decision out of Dean's hands. 'Meg, this is Dean. Dean, Meg.' 

'Nice to meet you.' Dean says, before he sighs, closing his eyes. _Good one, Winchester_. He turns to Castiel, almost ready to apologise, but there's a smile on Castiel's lips. So, instead of apologising, he just returns the smile and doesn't say a word. 

His arm almost moves on its own accord, wrapping around Castiel's shoulder without even realising it. It's only when he settles it around him, he realises that maybe Castiel doesn't even want his touch. But then Castiel sighs and just _moulds_ against him, like he's done so many times before. 

Dean turns his head and presses a kiss to Cas' temple. 'We need to talk.' 

Castiel nods his head, a quite hum breaking free. 'We do.' He then shakes his head, cuddling closer to Dean's side, his arm coming around Dean's waist in return. His other hand reaches across and takes Dean's free hand into his. 'But not now.' 

Dean smiles softly, pressing another kiss to Cas' temple. He then presses another to his forehead. 'Yeah. Not now.' He turns back to Meg's gravestone. 'Now, you mourn the loss of your friend. And I'll be here to comfort you in whatever way you need.'

Cas lifts his head from Dean's shoulder for a moment, and Dean worries that he's said something wrong. But then Cas leans forward and presses a kiss to Dean's lips in the softest graze of lips that's ever been exchanged between them. 

He then pulls back and rests his head on Dean's shoulder once more. 

'And then,' Dean starts up once again, because he hadn't finished before. 'Whenever you're ready…' His hand tightens around Castiel's shoulder. Almost in a promise to never let him go again. 'We'll go _home_.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Neither of them are aware of the flashing lights as the taxi pulls up to the apartment building. Not until the driver clears his throat and mutters, 'You sure this is the right place?' 

Dean and Cas pull apart, Cas lifting his head from Dean's shoulder as they both lean to the centre, trying to look out the windscreen. Their eyes widen when they see the red and blue flashing lights of two police cars. Castiel's eyes find Dean's face, who has a tiny smirk pulling at his lips. 

'Something you're not telling me?' He questions, but Dean just raises his hand to his lips in a silencing gesture. His eyes narrow slightly but when Dean declares that it's definitely the right address to the cab driver, he decides to trust him. 

He waits as Dean fishes out the money to pay the cab, before sliding out after him. His mouth almost drops open when he sees Crowley being led out of the apartment building by two policemen. His arms are behind his back in handcuffs, and the four girls - his next door neighbours - stand at the door with victorious smirks on their faces. 

'Something wrong, Crowley?' Dean questions as he walks by, not even trying to hide the smirk that's spreading across his lips now. 

The Englishman sneers, his eyes narrowing. 'This is your fault, Winchester. I know it.' He hisses, but then he's yanked away from him and led to the car. Dean only lets out a loud laugh, his hand reaching for Castiel's and threading his fingers through the gaps. 

They move over to the girls, and Castiel finally has enough and questions, 'Anyone going to tell me what's going on?' 

The girls say nothing about him being back. Their eyes light up and smiles break across their lips, but other than that, there's nothing. And he's thankful. The last thing he needs is a _welcome home_ party. 

'Oh, our beloved landlord has just been found in possession of heroin. Enough of a stash that the police reckon he was at the end of his supply for distribution.' Krissy smirks, her eyes flickering over to Crowley once more, who is stuck in the back of the police car. He's in the middle of ranting and raving about God only knows what.

'And as they were rifling through his possessions, they also found some signs that he could be avoiding taxes, abusing his power as a landlord, and taking bribes and dealing in blackmail.' Hael adds in. 'The police have been looking to nail him for a long time, but just haven't found the cause.'

'Thanks to an anonymous tip, however, it seems he will be going away for a long time.' Claire finishes, folding her arms over her chest. 'And they're going to make sure our building gets a certified landlord this time.' 

Dean smirks as Castiel's eyes flicker over to him. He says nothing and so Dean clears his throat, and tugs his hand towards him. Castiel takes the hint and starts walking, letting Dean lead them up to their apartment. He leaves the girls with nothing more than a smile in goodbye. 

They don't seem to care, though, happy to just watch Crowley be driven away in the police cars.

'So, what part did you play in that?' Castiel questions as soon as the door closes behind them. He looks around the apartment, finding his heart tightening when he realises that not much has changed. It's still his _home_. 

'Benny had some old heroin lying around.' Dean shrugs, leading Cas over to the couch. He pushes Castiel down to sit on the lumpy mattress. His hand disentangles from Castiel's, and he hastily rushes to his room. There, he picks up his baby, his hands gliding over her smooth, black body. She's a reminder of what he's achieved - what he's written for Castiel.  

As soon as he has her, he makes his way out to Castiel again, sitting on the table across from him and the sofa. 

'Okay, I know I said we should talk, and we should! I mean, we definitely will!' He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. 'But before we get down to that, I just think… that this is something that you should hear.' 

Castiel knows what it is before Dean arranges his fingers for the first chord, and so he questions, 'You finished it?' 

Dean nods his head, a wide smile spreading across his face. 'I finished it, babe.' 

Castiel practically beams at him as Dean strokes the first chord. He takes a deep breath to himself and looks down. Right now, he can't look at Castiel. It's the first time he's ever wrote a song dedicated to someone; to someone that would look at him whilst he played it, and watch him in awe. 

It's nerve wracking. 

'Okay.' He lets out his breath and sings, ' _Your eyes as we said our goodbyes, can't get them out of my mind. And I find, I can't hide from your eyes. The ones that took me by surprise, the night you came into my life. When there's moonlight, I see your eyes.'_ Dean's eyes finally raise to meet Castiel's, who's eyes are already starting to water. ' _How'd I let you slip away, when I'm longing so to hold you? Now I'd die for one more day, cause there's something I should have told you. Yes there's something I should have told you.'_ He moves closer to Castiel, shifting forward until he's on the edge of the table and Castiel is on the edge of the couch. ' _When I looked in to your eyes, why does distance make us wise? You were the song all along, and before the song dies, I should tell you, I should tell you, I have always loved you.'_

Dean sits the guitar down beside him, no longer needing it. He opens his arms as he finishes, ' _You can see it in my eyes.'_

And before Dean even knows what's happening, Cas is suddenly in his arms, and he's whole once more.

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites
> 
> i’m on [tumblr](http://runningwithshewolves.tumblr.com) and [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lottielovebuzzs-Fanfiction/154475354679423)! come and say hi!!
> 
> so there we have it. it's finished. i will probably write some one-shots in the 'verse, so just look out for more parts. and the song dean sings to cas is Your Eyes from RENT which kinda inspired this whole thing, so i thought it deserved a place in the fic. 
> 
> if there's anything you want to see from this verse just leave me a comment and chances are i'll fic it. 
> 
> anyway, thank you to all the kudos and comments and subscribers. you all kept me going through this and i love you all!! <33


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